


The Aphrodite Curse

by JessicaX



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Age Difference, Birth Control, F/M, Foot Massage, Hate Crimes, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Racism, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 72,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaX/pseuds/JessicaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Any minute now, he's going to ask what's wrong with me... and what am I going to be able to answer him?" While Artemis is treated at the J. Argon Clinic, he and Holly become closer than ever. Not that the People are too happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> Most characters and settings are © the great Eoin Colfer... and any original characters aren't worth remembering. Story ©2011 myself. Rated T for scads of adult themes and a few bits of grisly violence, but there's hardly any language (excepting 'D'Arvit').

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE everyone and their uncle starts crying plagiarism, I freely admit Chapter 1 is merely a scene from Time Paradox slightly re-imagined (as a sort of prologue), and rest assured that from Chapter 2 it picks up where Atlantis Complex left off. So it's sort of a book 7.5. Further notes afterward.

**TARA SHUTTLEPORT E1, IRELAND; NINE YEARS AGO**

Artemis Fowl the Second found himself torn. When had his life become so complicated? It seemed like scant days ago – though it was actually years, and technically they were in the future rather than the past - that everything had been clear; he was a self-made villain, heir to a criminal empire and budding mastermind with a tenuous grip on the Way Of Evil. Elegant simplicity. Then, somewhere along the way, things had become muddled. Lives in the balance. Too many wants, too many needs. Perhaps there should be a few more thrown into the mix, just to drive him further to the depths of insanity. Yes, that's it; insult to injury. It seemed to be his lot in life, anyway.

Holly Short climbed onto the bonnet of their 'borrowed' vehicle, resting her back against the windscreen. "Maybe they don't want to rule the world. Maybe that's just you, Arty."

 _Arty_.

Guilt gnawed at Artemis's stomach like a ravenous vulture, desperate for a long-denied meal. It was impossible to concentrate on the subject matter of their conversation; something about dwarfs as a species. He sullenly gazed at Holly's familiar elfin features, delicately outlined by sunbeams. How could he keep lying to her? She didn't deserve that. Out of anyone he knew, she deserved it the least.

"It's a pity we had to steal this car," continued Holly, closing her eyes to better soak up the light she usually went days or weeks without due to living underground. "But the note we left was clear enough. The owner should find it without a problem."

Artemis couldn't spare much empathy for the owner of said car. He had bigger nails in his coffin. "Yes, the car," he made himself mumble to seem invested in their dialogue, though his mind was struggling with an altogether different burden.

_I need to tell her. I have to tell her._

Artemis used the Mini's front tyre to heave himself onto the bonnet beside his friend. They sat idly for a few minutes, and Artemis focused his entire being on the shared experience. If this conversation took the turn he feared it would, he would need this memory safely locked away in the vault of his innermost mind. Something to savor when ones like it would no longer be coming his way.

"Sorry about earlier. You know, the thing."

When he glanced toward her, she met his eyes briefly. He chanced a feeble smile while asking, "The kiss?"

"Yes." She turned away, eyes closing. "I don't know what's happening to me. We're not even the same species. And when we go back, we'll be our old selves." Holly covered her face, a hollow laugh escaping her throat. "Listen to me, babbling. The LEP's first female captain. That time stream has turned me into what you humans would call a _teenager_  again."

This was not untrue; both travelers' bodies had been subtly altered. Mostly, Artemis found the shift in her nature was negligible; perhaps she was a tad more emotional than he was accustomed to, but otherwise she remained the same police elf with an unflappable sense of duty. He suspected what she meant was outward appearance - physically, both compatriots were now roughly in their late teens or early twenties. Though their minds were mostly as they had been, the decades-encompassing age gap had been effectively closed. Such a seemingly unimportant detail had disrupted the dynamic of their friendship far more than he would have expected. He'd surmised that she was perhaps as much as sixty years his senior (though in elfin years this made her not yet middle-aged). Shunting her back into his demographic... it changed things.

"What if I'm stuck like this?" she suddenly asked, voice uncharacteristically meek and pleading. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

A weighty silence hung over them as they both contemplated the significance of this seemingly-harmless notion. Perhaps Holly hadn't even intended for it to have any deeper meaning than her looks and youth being restored, but the quick glance he stole of her eyes showed him that it had caught up to her, and now she was... afraid. Afraid of both the interest she may have exposed, and of his answer. Whichever direction he leaned in, it was going to have devastating ramifications.

_If you answer this question, it will be the worst thing you have ever done._

His chest felt constricted as he realized what it would mean to address this issue without clearing the air between them, because he had done something terrible. To her. He made himself think that, drove the point home to his conscious mind:  _to_ her. Not involving her, or something that resulted in her being maligned. The thing he'd done, no matter the purity of his reasons, was a direct affront to their friendship.

What good was he?

Artemis was on point of telling her everything; the words were bubbling up from his throat, but his own fear of her response kept pushing them back down. He hesitated too long. Just as he was steeling himself to go through with it, she spoke.

"You... don't feel the same," she whispered, incorrectly guessing at the reason for his silence.

"What?" he said, at first unsure of what she was talking about. "About- oh, Holly, don't be s-"

"Then you agree with my earlier points." She was refusing to look him in the eye now. "We're apples and oranges. What business do we have bucking traditional values, mixing human and fairy-kind like that? Asking to be run out of town with the equally-traditional pitchforks and torches."

"Pitchforks and torches?" he half-laughed, unable to remain serious in the face of this turn of phrase. "Where did you come up with that? I didn't think Haven's technologically-advanced borders had any use for either of those archaic implements."

"It's a metaphor," she snapped, cheeks burning. But he knew they weren't burning because she was embarrassed by her 'angry villager' reference. "And you're skirting the issue."

"Holly, the issue... is not the issue." What kind of genius was he when that was the best way he could think to get his point across? "I m-mean- there's something I have to tell-"

"Don't say it," she interrupted. "I know the next word out of your mouth is going to start with an 'M', anyway."

"Mmm," he said, thoughtful. "Mmmmalevolent? Myopic? Madagascar?"

Holly shrugged her shoulders, trying not to laugh again. "Back to our monkey friend, eh? No, I meant Minerva."

"Minerva?" He found himself surprised at this, and especially at the jealousy that dripped from the word when Holly said it. Or was he applying some ill-placed significance to her tone that didn't belong? "Why would she- I mean, what's that got to do with anything?"

"You and she... I get it, I'm not a total  _cowpog_. And why wouldn't you? She's a Mud Girl genius, and you're a Mud Boy genius. Simple enough math that even a non-genius such as myself can work it out."

"Please," he said grumpily. This sidetrack was getting in the way of larger concerns. "She's scarcely said two words to me since you and I returned home from Limbo. Came to visit me once just after my return to Fowl Manor, made sure I was well, promised to call... then nothing. Irksome, that, but there you are."

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I really thought you guys had, y'know... an 'ember' or whatever."

"Perhaps one that got smothered by the sands of time. Three years is quite a long stretch to carry a, er,  _torch_  for someone who ostensibly no longer exists." Holly did laugh at his use of a word she'd so recently brought up, but again they were carrying on and on about stupid things, when there was a dark secret weighing on his bothersome conscience. They didn't have much time before Mulch would have found his way inside the shuttleport; it was now or never.

"Holly, I- what I'm about to say will probably cause you yet more undue sorrow, but please, it is of the utmost import that I be allow-"

His brain went as blank as a stretch of unused canvas when the soft lips found his, mashing inward with such potency and force of motion that he was nearly bucked from the bonnet and sent to the earth below. He automatically raised his hands to her shoulders, intending to ward her off, but as her fingers slid around the base of his neck the will to do so left him; no blue sparks were needed to add to the magic of these unforeseen passions. Her trim body drew flush with his, and his heart-rate sped to lethally high levels.

 _What is this, exactly?_  he wondered.  _Am I..._

Then she was at a semi-safe distance, still lying beside him, cheeks burning crimson as she gasped for breath. "Artemis... that's- don't say anything yet, I didn't mean to do that, but I want- can I have a chance t-to explain?"

"By all means," he squeaked, surprised by the odd quality in his own voice.

Again, their eyes locked, and he gazed into the mismatched irises staring back at him; one of hers, and one of his own. They were forever bonded by this ocular swap, part of each other until they were no more. Was this destined from the beginning?

"Y-you," she began, then thought better of it, and cleared her throat to steady her nerves before she tried again. It didn't appear to work. "We have come a long, long way in our relationship since you kidnapped me and held me for ransom."

"Thanks for the refresher," he said glumly.

"No, no, that wasn't supposed to- okay." A deep breath. "What I mean is... we've become... I know this sounds sappy, but I'd like to think we're something like friends now. Let me know if I'm out of line."

"You aren't," he told her simply.

"Good. Because... I think this is moving too fast, and we're up to our pointed ears in it too early. Or, well, your ears aren't pointed at all – which is part of the problem, since I'm an elf, and you're not." She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a weak laugh, tugging at the collar of the white shirt she had borrowed from his younger self's wardrobe. "D'Arvit, I sound like a schoolgirl."

"Do you... are you telling me you'd rather not associate with me anymore?"

"No!" she exclaimed, alarmed. "Gods, no, that's not what I meant at all! It's the last thing I want – at this point, I think it would pretty much kill me!"

Her meaning was becoming clear, and Artemis felt his face grow hot. What was she confessing to him?

This was all wrong. He had intended to get his awful deception out into the open before this happened. Much worse was the fact that she was expressing far more desire to deepen their bond than he'd anticipated. Time was running out, in more ways than one.

"So," she breathed. "Do you... could we ever..."

"I have to tell you something first," he said bluntly, words overlapping in his haste.

"What is it?"

"You're not going to like it. I... what did I do? Because all of this feels so, so desirable and correct, but how can it be when I've..."

Her expression instantly turned darker, though the shame of her confession lingered in her voice and cheeks. "You did... something terrible. Artemis, what is it  _now?_  Is this all some get-rich-quick scheme? Oh gods, please tell me you didn't fake your mother's illness just so we'd-"

"No, for heaven's sake!" he blustered. "I would never... but alas, you are uncomfortably close to the mark. This is-" Bandage. He needed to get this over with, like ripping off a bandage; already they had drawn it out too long. "It wasn't you, Holly."

"What wasn't me? I don't-"

"You didn't infect my mother. I did it. It was me – or that's my theory. I had a few sparks of magic left over from the tunnel and I made my parents forget I'd been missing for three years. So... so I'm guessing that if either of us caused this outbreak, it's most likely me rather than you, as I was the most recent one to..."

Her brow knit at the center, and he was struck with the thought that he wished she never had to wear this expression again. "I didn't... but you told me..." And then it zeroed in on her mind, filling it with the ugly reality of what he'd done. Instantly, her tones were frostier, her body language less open – and more openly hostile. "I see."

"I had to do it, Holly," he persisted, his desperate mind reasoning madly that the rest of the story would make his actions seem less despicable. "Mother is dying... will be dying. I needed to be certain of your help. Please understand..."

But by the end of it, he knew it was hopeless. He was an utter cad to have treated her this way. He weakly added a, "If there had been another way, Holly, believe me," but there was little point. Her face was carved in stone.

"Please, Holly. Say something – anything. I..."

With no further ado, she leaped down from their position atop the car, straightened, and said in flat, emotionless tones, "Fifteen minutes are up. Time to move out."

And he watched her go – watched with the regret of a man who's thrown it all away over nothing. Even in his old clothes, she made for a stunning figure. He could have trusted her; he knew that, now. So what if his criminal nature railed against such concepts as trust and companionship? Blame or no blame, if he'd merely begged, insisted that this was of the utmost importance for both his mother and the future of the silky sifaka lemur, she most assuredly would have relented and helped her friend. But there would be no repairing the bridge he'd burned.

_Extraordinary. What have I lost?_

A mud-coated Mulch Diggums was waiting at the shuttleport's entrance. When he asked "What kept you?" in snide tones, neither of them answered. It was going to be a long, wearisome trip.

_o o o END Chapter One o o o_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Happy Mother's Day! In celebration (except totally unrelatedly), here it is... what I honestly (I mean it this time!) intend to be my very last fanfiction for a good long while. "Mixed Signals" received some favourable reviews in spite of its appallingly-tiny fandom, and I was glad to wrap up my X-Men epic as well. But this... I've had it started since the dead of Winter, and for some reason I didn't have the heart to crack it open again and polish it up for proper viewing until this past week (following EvF's completion). I'll get AF:AC splashed across the IntarWebs and then fade into oblivion once more.
> 
> This is a steamy inter-species romance het-fic (WHAT? Jessica X writing something other than femmeslash?), with a healthy dose of humor and an underlying message of racial equality. And I'm sure there's a thousand Arty/Holly fics out there, but the more the idea blundered around my brain, the harder it became to ignore. Forgive me? I'll be taking them down a long, twisted road, and there might be happiness at the end, and then again...
> 
> Ready for more pain, misery and suffering as only Jessex can dole it out? You are? Spiffing! Off we go.
> 
> [AO3 NOTE: More like "Happy Easter" now, ahaha.]


	2. Prognosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. As nice as it is to be telling a new tale, I once again find myself infuriated by Matron's tireless attempts to make submitting work more and more difficult for fanfic authors. Now I find my chapters are being smooshed into large, single paragraphs no matter what format I submit it in, rich text, html, DOC, ODT... argh. It gives me a towering migraine. But enough of my bellyaching about things that cannot be changed :P
> 
> On the other hand, I'm glad I've got a few people interested. Huzzah for stolen moments and palpable tension! Lots to do, lots to do...

**J. ARGON CLINIC, HAVEN CITY; ONE WEEK AGO**

Holly Short's foot was drumming out a frantic beat on the floor of the waiting room. Dr. Jerbal Argon was such a stickler for propriety and rules; he knew who she was by now. Was all this rigamarole necessary? Then again, the doctor had been inept enough to allow the greatest criminal mastermind of their times – Artemis Fowl notwithstanding – to escape from within his care undetected for ages before Foaly connected the dots. Now everything had to be double- and triple-checked. Probably for the best.

"You're clear," the gnome said at last as he poked his head in. "As I'm sure you expected, but one never can be too careful."

"Sure can't," she said placatingly. No need to be overly cruel about Opal's disappearance when the doctor undoubtedly regretted it enough already. "Can I..."

"Yes, yes, this way."

 _This is the day,_  she thought to herself.  _If Artemis is up to it... then this is the day when I take a shot. If I blow a hole in my own foot, then so be it._

His door was guarded constantly. Despite his most recent efforts to save the world at large from the Greenhouse Effect, and shortly thereafter averting the abduction of the People's most powerful warlock, No1, Commander Trouble Kelp was unwilling to leave the human unwatched. Frankly, he was unwilling to have him treated in their own city, preferring he be taken above-ground and left to the "Mud Man quacks", as he had put it. But at insistences from Holly, Foaly and No1 himself, the decorated soldier had to agree that the humans were ill-equipped to tackle the dreaded Atlantis Complex from which the boy suffered. It was a fairy condition that was better serviced by fairy neurologists.

The bottle of fine sim-wine she'd bribed him with officially had no sway over his decision. Officially.

Truth be told, however, Artemis no longer needed to be in the clinic. He suffered from occasional bouts of depression, and would sometimes wince when he heard the number "four", but mostly he had made long strides along the road to recovery. The cocktail of drugs and hours of therapy had done wonders for the young genius; he maintained that the therapy had nothing to do with his improved mental health whatsoever, but Holly suspected that having a psychiatrist who could actually appreciate the more  _fantastical_ aspects of his life story without thinking he was living in Imagination Land was quite a boon. Human therapists who hear their patients yammering on about evil pixies and troll pheromones tend to reach for the straightjacket first and ask questions later.

Her face began smiling all on its own as they reached his door. Drat. It was an involuntary response she couldn't seem to break. Holly refused to inform him that she secretly enjoyed him being so close to home. How would that sound? "I'm ever so glad you turned into a raving lunatic so I could visit you more often!" He was unlikely to be cheered by this point of view.

"Afternoon, Captain," he said idly from where he was reclining in a chair, flipping through some fairy magazine or other. "Lovely weather."

"Shut up, Mud Boy," she snorted. They both knew full well that there was no  _weather_ in Haven, even if he was allowed outside his cell to enjoy it. "If you don't mind, Doctor...?"

"The usual privacy," Argon said with a nod. "Yes, of course. I must insist you only stay for an hour this time, as-"

"Let me guess; chess match?"

"Quite. I consider it important for his development into a more well-adjusted Mud B- ahh, I mean patient."

"Dire," Artemis muttered glibly as he turned a page.

At last, they were rid of the meddling staff – save for the sentry outside the door, but they were assured he could hear absolutely nothing. Artemis laid aside the periodical and asked, "Did you get it?"

Holly sighed, withdrawing a black-and-greyish roll from beneath her arm. "Do you know what channels I have to go through in order to nab a Mud Man newspaper? It was down to Doodah Day to come up with it, and he got more gold than he deserved for the job."

"Ahh, civilization!" he exclaimed as she unfurled the  _Wall Street Journal_. "Not that reading beauty tips for less-flaky points on one's ears isn't educational..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Surreptitiously, she thumbed the tips of her own ears; smooth and supple as always. Moisturizer was key. "So... how's life in lockup been treating you?"

"Fine," he said with a smile; he failed to elaborate until he'd glanced over everything on the front page, then laid the paper aside to peruse at great length once his visitor had gone. "You know, I think they've taken quite a shine to me. I heard one orderly mention something to the effect of, 'If somebody doesn't get that Mud Brat out of my hair soon, I'm going to stick him where the bum flap swings'. Such colorful commentary is doing wonders for my sanity."

Holly snickered. "Well, what can you expect? Even on a good day, you're no saint. Besides, most of these people have grown up resenting humankind for thieving the surface from us."

"And many of your kind has tried to kill me," he countered. "Should we revisit the prevailing attitude of the demons?"

"We shouldn't," she said with a wince. "Though I could point out that it's the humans' fault to begin with; coexistence is not their strong suit."

"Touché."

Holly smiled at him. Why was it that she enjoyed talking to him more than anyone in the Lower Elements? Even next to Mulch or Foaly, whom she considered to be close friends, a chat with Artemis was just so much more... what was it?

"Something on your mind, Captain?"

"No," she replied automatically, and instantly regretted it. There was, and this was the easiest way to broach the subject. Why had she denied it? Nerves. Yet another thing about Artemis that she failed to comprehend; he could unsettle her like nobody else, and with ease.

"Another date with Commander Kelp gone awry?"

 _"No,"_ she told him more forcefully. "And I remember stepping on your head last time you asked me that. I thought you were supposed to be learning from past mistakes in here."

"Glutton for punishment," he told her with a wide grin.

"One date!" she hissed. " _One_ , and I'm branded for life! And the one was an extremely lousy time to be had! D'Arvit!"

"No need for foul language," Artemis said blithely. "Just curious."

"Even  _if_ he were stupid enough to ask me out again – which he isn't – I assure you that I would spurn his advances."

"Why? He and yourself are well-suited to each other, from all appearances."

"Appearances can be deceiving," she growled. "And they aren't everything. Sometimes two people who look totally wrong for each other can..."

It was literally until she was that far into the statement that she realized what she was  _truly_  commenting on, so she cleared her throat instead.

"Can?"

"Nevermind."

"No, that sounded like it was winding up to something quite intriguing," he said with his patented wicked, plotting grin that she hated (hated to like, that is). "Birds of different feathers flock together, eh?"

"What about Turnball and his human wife?" she said, grasping at an example that didn't involve her personally. "It sounds like a match made in Limbo, but they got it to work; they were the genuine article."

"Indeed. Too bad he was a genuine psychopath."

"That... is unfortunate," she admitted. Pitiful headway she was making.

"Come on, then. What's really on your mind, fair maiden? Bear your soul unto me, and I shall-"

"I told you to  _stop_  that! It's not funny! It scares me!"

"Fine, fine," he laughed, unrepentant. "You dislike poor Orion; he's sad about that, truly. Or would be if he still existed."

Holly caught that. "So... he is gone? You don't sense him in there anymore?" When he shook his head, she heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank Frond!"

"I can still remember everything he  _did,_ " Artemis went on. "But whereas when I was first admitted I could still feel him lingering in my mind, straining to reassert his persona, now there is nothing. I believe I am, to borrow the colloquialism, 'right as rain'. Although I do seem to be marginally more adept at hand-to-hand combat than I once was..."

"The doctor did mention that to me," she said, lighthearted from this news. "He said a few of your alter ego's traits might bleed into yours as he faded, but it would mostly be secondary things like that. Glad to find out that he knows his stuff."

"Seems so. And now, the final test: say it."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

Holly took a deep breath. "Four four four four."

Artemis's eye twitched; she caught it, there could be no smoothing over that in her mind. But he did not start tapping his foot twenty times, did not cower in the corner or start ranting that everyone was plotting against him. Other than the mild movement of his eyelid, he was supremely unaffected.

"I wasn't expecting you to say it four times," he said with a slight smile. "Clever strategy, but I do believe I am the victor."

"Oh, Artemis!" Holly laughed, hopping up to throw her arms around his neck. At the last moment, he caught her around the waist so they wouldn't topple to the floor. "I'm so happy – I'm so glad you're... you're  _you_  again! It's been killing me inside, knowing what you're going through and that I couldn't do anything to help."

"But you have," he contradicted her. "You've been a 'positive influence', according to the good doctor. And according to me; between you and my mother, I'm beginning to suspect there might be some slight chance of redemption for this old mastermind yet."

"Oh, what did  _I_  do?" she laughed, wiping at her eyes as he set her down gently. "Yelled at you for being such an evil son-of-a-troll. Some positive influence."

"You did this." When she looked up, she saw he was holding a coin with a hole in its center. "This was a lot. It's helped me over and over."

"That's..." Her voice caught in her throat as she glanced toward the hairline scar around her trigger finger. "That's less about my influence on you and more about me owing you a debt."

"Poppycock," he said as he turned it over in his hand. "I'm sure you remember every word you said to me when you gave me this coin. I know I do."

"I meant it all," she said earnestly. "And I feel a little vindicated, since I was one hundred per cent right on the money; you're just a decent guy who  _thought_ he was a villain. Took you a while to get there, but you did."

"Well, one can't be a genius in  _all_ areas of expertise," he said with false modesty as he pocketed his keepsake. "Holly... I feel too often I have insinuated that my intellect is superior to yours."

"Stated openly is more like it."

He grimaced. "Alas, guilty as charged. But perhaps it should be said that your wealth of knowledge is aimed in a different direction. You're a genius of the heart."

Her lip quivered, and she instantly chided herself for it. What was she doing, acting like some gelatinous amorphobot, just because Artemis had complimented her? She coughed and said, "Thanks."

"Now, back to what's troubling you. Don't think I've forgotten so quickly."

"It can wait," she said immediately, having already decided. Today was a good day – extremely good – but it was not  _THE_ day.

"Out with it," he persisted. "I'm curious. And you know how I get when I'm curious... I could have listening devices planted in your pillows to get to the bottom of-"

"Fine, fine," she snapped, irritated now. It was not the mood she would have chosen to be in when initiating this discourse. "Your funeral."

"I shall dig my very own shallow grave. Onward."

She exhaled deeply, trying not to look at his two-tone irises, to see that little bit of herself there. It was hard enough without thinking about how a part of her friend was always with her, how they were intrinsically linked by this displacement. "About... Orion."

"This can't be good," he grunted.

"I told you! Did I not tell you?"

"Very well," he sighed wearily. "I did promise to dig my own grave. What about Sir Orion of Locksley?"

"Something has been bothering me. About his... amorous advances."

"The way he was all over you like sharks on the trading floor."

Holly didn't understand his simile, so she decided it must be a Mud Man thing and ploughed ahead. "Uhh, yeah. He kept insisting that the way he felt was the way you felt; that the only difference was that he saw no need to hide it. I wanted to ask you if... if there's any truth in that."

"You mean, have I been pining away after you in here, scratching your name on the walls with my plastic spoon?" He chuckled. "Hardly. That isn't to say I don't adore you, Holly, I do, but... I think Orion may have been exaggerating a touch. Which seemed to be what he was best at."

She could feel her heart drooping slightly beneath the fabric of her LEPrecon uniform. "Really?"

"You don't agree that he was a melodramatic ponce?"

"Well, yeah," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But... about the rest... I mean, I don't, either, but I had to ask. For the sake of our friendship."

"No," he said solidly. "I put that behind me when I hurt you. Ailing mothers or no ailing mothers, what I did to you was inexcusable. Of course, part of friendship is forgiveness – or so I'm told by reputable sources," and here they both snickered, "but... no one being has done enough wrong in their lifetime to be deserving of someone who can justify playing such a callous trick on them. To use your example of the dastardly Captain Root; he  _enthralled_ his wife. She was blameless, and still he did this horrible thing to her. Their love was real, but in the end, how was he deserving?"

"You... 'put it behind you', eh?"

"Hmm?"

Holly pinned him down with her gaze. That miniscule tidbit had almost slipped past her unnoticed, but she caught it up, bent on dissecting it. "If you say you put it behind you, that means it existed."

"Er... indeed," he laughed nervously. "I'm not a big enough fool to deny I felt something between us. But you were saturated with superfluous hormones that you hadn't felt with such intensity for-"

_"Careful..."_

"For quite some time," he finished, sidestepping the issue of her age. "How could I hold you responsible? More seriously, I wasn't too far off from my usual age, so it was up to me to prevent such things from happening."

"Don't do that," the captain rebuked him. "Don't take on all the weight; we were both there. Just because I was in a more youthful body doesn't mean I was entirely powerless to its whims."

"I have to believe that, though. Because if I don't... then that means we shared a genuine moment – more than once, yet. Two sober, uninfluenced individuals. That's far more difficult to dismiss, isn't it?"

"It is. It's reality, though."

Artemis stared down at her wide, patient eyes for a long moment, confused. Finally, he whispered, "I... wonder if I might ask, precisely why are we talking about this? Is there a reason?"

"Does there have to be?"

"We need to be cautious," he told her, a tiny pinprick of urgency creeping into his words. "Straying into this veritable minefield of emotions is... ill-advised."

"Why?"

"Because I respect our friendship in its present state. It's crucial to me.  _Very_  crucial."

This warmed her immensely. "I do, too. You know I do."

"I know." For a moment, he gazed over toward his bed, then he turned back. "But still you press the issue. This isn't a judgement, not exactly; I'm just wondering if there's a specific reason."

"It just feels so... unresolved," she burst out. "I keep thinking about you, and wondering what might have been, and- that's not to say I think about you all the time, or anything, but... when I do, that question always pops up. I thought it might be wise to, I don't know... revisit? Lay it to rest? I don't know what I thought, now."

"Because... you don't want it to linger between us, and confuse the matter in the future? Possibly. A mere guess. Am I right?"

"Mostly, yes, that's what I was thinking." It wasn't a lie. Not a bald-faced one, anyway.

He thought for a moment, thumb and forefinger at his chin. At last he dropped his hand and asked, "What answer would you rather I give?"

"I think you've been hanging around with psychologists too long," she grunted. "Want me to tell you about my mother next?"

"Come on, you can't blame me for trying."

"What I'd rather we  _didn't_  do is play games instead of really talking about this. But if you're not up to that yet-"

"You are the one who told me – unreservedly – that my 'elf-kissing days are over', Holly. Regardless of the fact that I never  _initiated_  a kiss with you. I am attempting to respect someone's wishes for a change."

"I was hurt, Artemis," she said, stepping out from behind the stone wall she had built around her feelings for a moment. "You had your reasons for deceiving me, I understand, and I get it now, but at the time... it felt like we had placed my heart in the warmest, safest place it had ever been, and then you up and shot it with a Neutrino blaster. I'm sure you didn't expect a dozen roses when you told me you lied to me."

"To be honest, I didn't expect you to ever speak to me again."

"But I have. Sometimes, given a couple of days to lick our wounds, friends can forgive each other. According to reliable sources."

He laughed quietly. "Yes, so I've heard."

"Yeah. So," she said, clearing her throat and trying to regain a more business-like tone. "I guess I just wanted to know if you still found me 'fetching', or whatever Orion said. It seems important."

"If you're wondering if I find you visually appealing, the answer is always going to be 'absolutely'. Unless you mutate into a goblin."

Holly felt her pulse quicken. He still saw her that way, even now? It was such a simple thing he'd said, that she was attractive. So then, why did it excite her at all? Was she so desperate that every compliment sent her soaring through the clouds? "Huh."

"That, er, wasn't intended as a pick-up line," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Merely a statement of fact: you are a pretty little elf."

"Don't lay it on so thick," she said sarcastically, miffed at being called "little" by a Mud Boy who was small among his own kind.

"You are a vision before mine eyes," he said in disturbingly-familiar tones. "Shall I construct my princess a bivouac?"

"Enough with the Orionisms! Argh, aren't  _you_  tired of them, too?"

"Extremely. But we keep changing the subject. Or... has our discussion reached its end? Did you find out what you wanted to know?"

Holly was tempted to say she had; Artemis gave off every outward sign of having "gotten over" her. But on the other hand, he could just as easily be shielding his feelings to prevent himself from getting hurt – or out of loyalty. She had told him that all would-be romantic encounters were on permanent hiatus, that was true, but had she really meant it? Or perhaps the real question was: did she  _still_ hold either of them to that commandment?

"You're not too hideous yourself, Mud Boy," she ventured, winking at him.

"Eh?"

"Just returning the favor."

"Ah," he said, laughing as a slight rouge crept into his cheeks. From the awkwardness of the moment, or the wink... or wherefore? "Well, I and my other personalities thank you."

The longing to run into his arms and smother him with affection continued to build as they stared at each other. What was wrong with her? His response was what she had wanted; to make sure the lingering spark between them was dead and gone so they could cement their friendship as a lifelong and enduring one. But she knew a part of her yearned for more. More from Artemis, more in general and not specifically from Artemis? She wasn't sure of anything, and the last thing she wanted was to force a closer bond just because she wanted one from a breathing entity, when they actually held no real feelings beyond comradeship.

But the devil on her shoulder wasn't finished testing the waters.

"In fact," she said in a would-be casual fashion, "I'd go so far as to say you're maturing into a reasonably handsome young chap. For a human."

"You know, I'd meant to qualify my assessment of your beauty with species-specific terms, as well, but it must have slipped my mind." Was he reprimanding her, pointing out a flaw in her racial politics? He was. "I thought we were trying to break down those boundaries."

"Yes," she nodded with a smile. "Those boundaries should be broken down. Outdated thinking like that... it gets in the way of lasting peace. True happiness."

She was standing nose-to-chest with him now, staring up into his eyes.  _He can hear my heart pounding,_  she worried.  _I know he can. It's never,_ ever _beat this hectically; even when I was crawling all over him like that silky sifaka. During our time-traveling adventure, I was too out of my head to be scared of the results of my actions. Anything went! Now I'm terrified; of being rejected... or being encouraged. What will I do when he notices? Any minute now, he's going to ask me what's wrong with me. And what am I going to be able to answer him?_

"You're shielding. Why are you shielding?"

Holly fought to master herself; her pulse was thrumming so fast that she'd faded from sight. If given the chance, his computing brain would deduce the reasoning for that, so she had to get a handle on this quick.  _He can't know. He can't know how I feel; there's too much at stake_

"Would you like a hug?"

That snapped her out of it. "Bwa?"

"It's... I have been assured that hugging my friends is a perfectly normal function of being a typical adolescent," he told her awkwardly. "To be honest, this seems pandering and juvenile, but I've never once regretted embracing you up to now, so... it doesn't seem as if there's any harm in it."

 _You may be wrong there,_  she thought darkly. And the moment he knelt slightly to draw her close, she became sure of it.

His touch set her skin aflame. The feeling of his back beneath her hands, the scent of his hair... everything seemed to assault her senses, play with her mind like a toy. These were nothing compared to the reactions the rest of her body was experiencing, but these she forcibly ignored; too much, too soon. As it was, she was perilously close to moaning into his hair from the pure ecstasy being so close to him brought.

"Holly, I love you."

 _"WHAT?"_  she exclaimed, forcing him back, heart thudding against her throat now as her eyes flew open. "Did-  _Artemis!"_

"I do," he said, appropriately uncomfortable with this statement. "You're very... I'm sorry, this is something else Dr. Argon recommended. He says it's not enough to simply say, 'you're not a worthless lump of dwarf dung', but that I should speak aloud that I cherish my friends and family, use actual words beyond mere implication. That it will help me establish... blast, I am sorry if saying it to you... it must have sounded very, em, forward."

"No, no," she told him soothingly, hands shaking as she patted him on the shoulder. "It's... a step in your process, I understand. If I held it against you, or got mad about it, I'd be part of the problem instead of the solution. So I will not. I will  _not,_ " she said again, more to herself. That doctor was in for a real earful the next time she saw him...

Then he reached up and touched her face. "I- I really did upset you just now. I'm so sorry, Holly, but you must understand I didn't say it merely because I'm supposed to. I genuinely do lo-"

"Don't!" she warned, quivering. "Please, it's not that I'm trying to be mean, j-just... don't use that word again!"

Now his cheeks were probably as red as hers. "It... does make me feel a bit out of sorts, also, saying it to you. Because we..."

Holly was staring at the mouth she had once had the audacity to assume she could press her own against. The finger he'd once rescued strayed upward, tracing along his lower lip as she echoed, "Because we..."

"Holly?"

They stayed like that, suspended in mid-movement with questioning eyes deadlocked, for what felt like days. Then, much to both of their surprise, she slapped him.

" _OW!"_

"Sorry!" she told him earnestly, bending over his form. "It was- I think that was some kind of police-issue reflex, muscle-memory thing, I- my brain was overloading and perceived you as the threat, and I just reacted, and – D'Arvit, that wasn't the reaction I meant t-to-"

But Artemis was laughing. It was a weak, unsure chuckle, but at least he wasn't weeping or screaming at her. Unfortunately, it had the downside of making him sound like he was having a relapse.

"No," she breathed. "I... I broke you again. Please, Artemis, say something – something that doesn't involve bivouacs or numbers!"

"That's going to smart in the morning," he grunted, but his eyes were smiling. Holly didn't know how to react.

Regrettably, their hour was then up. It hadn't seemed like an hour, but then again with all the pregnant pauses it stood to reason that more time had elapsed than they had been aware. Dr. Argon did knock before entering, and when he brought Artemis's small cup of pills and a glass of water, Holly felt acutely aware of what she'd been doing: preying on a mental patient for gratification. It was a woeful breach of morals.

 _Trying to pick up a date in the psych ward,_  her conscience shrieked as she strode quickly down the hall.  _What kind of sicko are you?_

_o o o_ _END Chapter Two_ _o o o_


	3. Recognizance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is drawing more attention than I'd expected. Good to know I'm not the only avid (or is that "rabid?") fan! By the way, I'm well aware that this was a Holly-less chapter, and I apologize for that but I felt like Artemis ought to have a full installment with his family before getting back to the romance at hand. She will (obviously) be back in the next. Don't worry, there are a dozen or more chapters remaining in which to get your fix of Captain Short! Next time, we'll conjure up a bit of steam!

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

Artemis Fowl stretched his limbs. Today was the long-awaited day: he was free. It had seemed from time to time as if he would never again clap eyes upon the outside world.

And he wouldn't for some time yet. Such was the condition of his release: he must check in for therapy sessions every other day for the next week, then twice during the next. After that fortnight was up, if he was exhibiting no further signs of the disease, he would be allowed to return to Ireland – providing he continue to take a small dose of his medication, which he assured them that he could synthesize himself with his own equipment.

"All I'll need is a sample," he had said. "One dose, and I can churn out an infinite number of doses. And I swear I won't mass-produce it for commercial reasons. You trust me, don't you?"

He had then ignored their skeptical glares.

The apartment that his mother and manservant were staying in was paid up past the end of this period; it had been an easy matter to convert some of the Fowl family money to gold that the gnome landlord would accept. The room wasn't enormous, but large enough to sleep the two of them. Butler was unhappy to be crashing on the undersized couch already, and now they would be yet more cramped; a spare futon could be procured for a paltry sum.

Artemis picked an imaginary spot of lint from the sleeve of his tailored suit as he set off along the bustling Boulevard of Kings. So refreshing to be in his own clothing again rather than flowy hospital gowns. Everywhere he looked, fairy faces were upturned and awestruck; a  _human,_  they were most likely thinking. Aside from his mother and bodyguard, he would be the first to take up residence in a fairy city. The headline on the Lower Elements news would likely feature him.

"Look, Mama!" a young pixie cried out. "A Mud Man!"

"Shh, honey," the mother said hurriedly. "Don't anger it by pointing. They're given to violence."

Artemis couldn't help but chuckle to himself. This attitude was prevalent, and more than a tad warranted. He'd have to mind where he ventured if he didn't fancy being ambushed by a gang of goblins in some back alley to pay for the crimes of his people.

"Everything tip-top, Artemis?"

It was Butler, of course; the towering Eurasian man seemed to emerge from the very shadows. He excelled at that. "As well as can be expected, old friend. They took the liberty of washing and polishing my shoes, which means they look dreadful. I don't imagine there's a decent-"

"You know what I mean."

He sighed. "I do. And yes, I have righted my mental self. In fact, I would venture to say I'm in better form than ever I have been."

"Really?"

"Yes. Seems as if all these meddlesome doctors have a trick or two up their sleeves, after all."

"Then when I say 'four'..."

Artemis merely smiled. "Then you may as well be informing me of the time. Which is, as it happens, four twenty-seven."

Butler smiled, also; this was a far more understated expression on the mountainous bodyguard's features. He rarely grinned like a Cheshire cat. "That's the best news I've heard all decade."

"How are the family and Juliet?"

"Your mother is fine, as you're well aware from her visit yesterday," he said briskly. "Juliet is taking some time off from the Mexican wrestling circuit; I know I had told you she'd gone back to their ranks, but she couldn't concentrate on her work. Probably something to do with regaining all that fairy know-how."

"And Father?" Butler smirked. "Your mother is having a rough time explaining away your absence. Finally, she broke down and told him-"

" _NO."_

"-that you were suffering a bout of mental fatigue," he finished. "Of course, he wanted to fly out right away to, ahem,  _Singapore_ , but your mother insisted that he remain at home, informing him that you weren't allowed visitors and that she and I were only staying nearby to ensure that nobody was mishandling your treatment."

"Whew," Artemis gusted. "Had me reeling for a moment, there. I'm sure the Council's stance on my entire family retaining knowledge of the location and existence of fairy cities is not a cheery one."

"Yes. Imagine if the twins were brought along for the ride."

"They would fit right in," he laughed. "Small enough to pass for pixie adolescents, eh?"

Slowly, the two made their way through the city, drawing crowds of onlookers wherever they stepped. Artemis happened upon a quaint bistro that served a nice garden salad with only one or two ingredients that were entirely foreign to him, and they also happened to brew an invigorating tea from a plant he would very much liked to have a cutting for himself, for future pots at home. After their meal, they meandered along to the address he had only heard of before.

"Artemis!" Angeline Fowl gushed as he crossed the threshold, sweeping from the couch and the book she had been leafing through distractedly. "At last, it looks like you again!"

"Does it?" he said with a smirk. "I thought perhaps you would bemoan my appearance, insisting upon some plebeian denim-and-polyester ensemble."

"Hang the ensemble!" she cried as she threw her arms around his neck; he returned the embrace awkwardly at first, then with more warmth; part of his process, after all. "Oh, it's so good to have you home, Arty – even if that's a relative term at the moment."

"Yes, er... charming bungalow we've got ourselves."

It was charming, if you thought of  _dingy_  and  _microscopic_ as charming qualities. Still, it wasn't as horrifying as he'd been expecting from Butler's less-than-kind description. It was one large room, with two doors leading to the recycling room (lavatory) and the shower. In one corner was a small kitchenette, and Artemis's highly-developed sense of taste cringed at the low number of things that might actually be possible to prepare in it.

"I've had Butler pop back up to our world and bring us in a few of the essentials," she tittered as she led him to the couch. "Of course, on his recommendation I forewent any variety of meat, as these folk seem to think it barbaric. Are they all vegetarians?"

"Mostly," he said, wincing at the way she said  _our world;_  it was all their world, and Haven and Dublin merely parts of it. That possessive mindset started wars. "Though I've known many a dwarf to eat animals whole. But yes, I'm sure the elves, pixies and sprites are grateful for us not defiling their city with animal byproducts. It interferes with their magic."

"He also told me not to bother with the Perrier, and he was  _right,_ " she said happily. "The tap water here is... well, it's nothing short of brilliant!"

"Mankind could learn a thing or two from their filtration system," he ceded. "But that is a trivial matter. What news?"

"Your father is going spare," she said, heaving a great sigh. "Of course, I understand why the lie must be upheld. As it is, I've had a few of their policemen visit me and threaten to swipe my mind."

The tinge of fear that this gave him didn't prevent him from correcting her.  _"Wipe,_  not swipe – they don't want to confiscate it, just scrub it clean."

"Right," she said with a slight smile. "When I told them I'd already had that done, and  _afterward_  their own Opal Koboi had replenished my memories of fairy folk and added a few new ones during her unwelcome stay within my head, they seemed to think better of it, contacted their superiors and were told off. Apparently, they're debating a provision to their laws; if a human's had his or her mind wiped once already and somehow regains knowledge..."

"Yes, that would be quite a relief," he sighed. "When the fairy world keeps following certain Mud Men around, it would almost be  _more_ detrimental to continue erasing their knowledge of it."

His mother's lips pursed. "Yes. Arty, I'm not overly fond of the term they use for us. Can't they find something less... inflammatory?"

"Possibly, as soon as we relinquish the land we drove them from when we forced them underground. Then, I'm sure they'll stop thinking of us as dirt-encrusted savages who only won out through sheer force of numbers. Until such a time, I'm sorry to say the attitude will prosper for generations to come."

Though her anger abated, she still seemed unsettled by this. "Oh, well. Rome wasn't built in a day, was it? Have you eaten?"

"I have."

"A delicious salad," Butler put in. "Could have used a side of beef with it, in my opinion..."

"Indeed; bodyguards must keep their strength up. You should procure some of those protein shakes of yours on your next visit topside."

"Way ahead of you, boss," he said with a slight smile, opening a cupboard to reveal well over a dozen of such cans. "They'll do for a while. But the minute we're back in Fowl Manor, I'll be treating myself to a juicy cut of Black Angus."

Artemis smirked. "Holly would have a conniption if she heard that." But instantly, his smile fell. Holly.

"What is it, Arty?" his mother asked.

"Oh, nothing," he sighed, hitching his smile back into place. No need to burden them with such matters.

"I think I know." Butler squatted down on the edge of the futon his mother had been spending her nights on. "The good captain hasn't been keeping up her regular visits over the past week, has she?"

"How did you know th- ah." Artemis shrugged his shoulders. "Surveillance. Shouldn't have wondered; a Butler through and through."

"I wouldn't dare to pry into your personal life, Artemis; it's beyond my job parameters. But when she left from her last visit, she seemed... upset. Care to shed any light on that?"

He squirmed, staring down at his hands. "Well... there may have been a misunderstanding, during which she got an errant impression that she had caused me to relapse."

"Really?" his mother pressed, leaning in.

"Well, she- oh, get out of it, the pair of you," he grumbled. "The point is, I was laughing nervously, and I think she misheard it as a 'mad cackle', and took her leave within seconds. Of course, I wasn't allowed personal calls until my release, so I had no options for setting the record straight."

"No one will ever accuse Artemis Fowl the Second of being a ladies' man," Butler chuckled. He did not cease when his principal raised an annoyed eyebrow.

"My Arty never did know how to handle women," his mother agreed fondly, ruffling his hair. It had been perfectly groomed before she did that. "Something you said, or did? You didn't make a pass at her!"

"No!" he exclaimed. "For God's sake, Mother!"

"And I thought we talked about that."

His nostrils flared. "It's more difficult to sound justly infuriated when I'm whinging the word 'Muuum'," he protested. "I might as well scream that I'd rather not wear my nappy."

"So now you won't wear the nappy? You're breaking your mother's heart!"

The good-natured chiding lasted for quite some time after this, until Artemis desperately snatched at the notion that he should call his father to tell him directly that all was well in – as Butler had informed him –  _Singapore._

The conversation was brief and without much substance; his father fretted over his state of mental health, Artemis reassured him and tried to sound as much like himself as possible. For a moment or two they chatted about the twins, and then he put his mother on to confirm his story. Luckily, the phone that Artemis had had returned to him when discharged from the clinic was equipped with a feature that allowed him to redirect his call through to the Asian city he was supposed to be convalescing in. Maybe his father wouldn't have traced the call, anyway, but a Fowl can never be too sure – especially when concerning another Fowl.

o o o

There was a kink in Artemis's back when he awoke the next morning. His was the unfortunate luck to get the couch, as he was the only one of a size that could be folded into its inadequate length. While he had felt a touch of adventure when he first laid upon it - "roughing it", in contrast with his usual luxurious accommodations at the manor - by sunrise, he no longer felt this way.

A pot of sim-coffee was already brewed and waiting for him when he awoke; though he normally cared for tea, he indulged in a few sips to wake himself more fully. Once he had showered and changed into the clothes his mother laid out for him, he returned to the living room, feeling less than amused.

"You may or may not have walked away with the impression that I tolerate jeans and t-shirts, Mother. Allow me to correct you in this area."

"You look fine," she insisted, stirring a bowl on the counter. "Now, bear with me, I've usually left this to the kitchen staff, but... well, over the past few years, I think I've just about perfected the recipe."

Though it wasn't quite dining at Pierre Gagnaire's famous eatery, the pancakes his mother had somehow cobbled together from their meager stores did fill him up, and were light and fluffy. Being that the salad he had eaten the night before had been on the smallish side, and that he'd been forced to endure hospital food for weeks beforehand, simple pancakes were a slice of heaven.

Afterward, he thought he might give Holly a ring at home, but there was no answer, and he declined to leave a message. Contacting her at work got him Foaly, who reprimanded him for using the official line for personal business.

"We've got better things to do than chat with Mud Men," the centaur snapped. "Do you even know what's going on downtown?"

"No, I don't," he said slowly, already irked from having his call re-routed. "What is going-"

"Turn on the news for a change," Foaly grunted. "Even so, it's heartening to hear you saying things besides 'noble steed' and 'bivouac'. We'll talk soon."

"Bivouac," he snapped irritably once the line had gone dead. "Bivouac, bivouac,  _bivouac._ "

"A relapse?" Butler asked, concerned.

"No, I'm just... isn't there some way I can prevent everyone from recalling my actions as that simpering relic of the Dark Ages?"

"Yes," Butler told him simply. "But I think only the LEP has access to the equipment. Short of that, you're just going to have to ride it out."

"I was afraid you might take up that viewpoint."

Without any other activity to busy himself with, Artemis did flip on the wall-mounted screen and quickly found the news Foaly was referring to; it was airing on all channels. It appeared that a disgruntled former employee of Koboi Laboratories had strapped a bomb to his chest, and was threatening to decimate the thriving city center unless he was paid back wages. Nothing earth-shattering, but cause for concern. Once or twice, he spied an officer's uniform from around the reporter's pointy ears, but mostly they appeared to be male. No Holly.

Artemis fell to his exercises to pass the time. Butler and the doctors had conspired to put him on a strict regimen upon his institutionalization, and while it had angered him to no end at first, he now found it soothing. He had just completed two dozen sit-ups and was going to roll over and see how he fared with push-ups when he caught sight of something onscreen that made his throat constrict.

"You fool..."

Holly had clambered onto the roof behind the madman, crouched low and was readying to pounce. More than on any previous occasion, he found himself angry at her for putting herself in harm's way. Did she think herself invincible?

Apparently, she was, as at the very instant the man threw back his head to laugh maniacally, she dove forward, wresting the detonator from his grip at the moment of impact. He scarcely had time to gasp in surprise before she had shot him with her Neutrino, dropping him into the realm of sleep instantly. Her wings activated in midair as her gun-arm hooked around his waist, and she slowly descended to the ground and a waiting group of bomb technicians. The crowds around them cheered.

"Can one still use the term 'flyboy' when it's a woman?" Butler mused aloud as he cleaned his dismantled Sig Sauer on the low coffee table.

"I believe the slang you're searching for is 'hot dog'," his mother put in. "And this is a friend of Artemis's? You're certain?"

"Couldn't be anyone else," he said with a wan smile even before the reporter confirmed the officer's identity.

The three of them went out for lunch, intimidating every fairy within sight. While his mother seemed blissfully unaware of the venomous stares from the family of gnomes two tables down from them, he had a hard time enjoying his artisan sandwich and the fairies' answer to french onion soup. When would his two weeks be up?

"E-excuse me, sirs, madam," a timid-looking pixie waiter began, trying his best to smile through his fear. "But I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to leave."

"Really?" Butler asked, intentionally allowing his voice to drop into a lower register. Artemis thought he saw vibrations rippling on the surface of his tea.

"Well," the pixie squeaked, then cleared his throat and tried anew. "Well, the problem is, you're Mud Men, and some of our clientele... you understand, they feel uneasy about dining with other patrons they see as a threat to their own safety. Nothing personal."

Artemis allowed his gaze to linger overlong on the gnome family, who quite suddenly became interested in their meals. "Do tell."

"Yes," his mother said with a deceptively polite smile. "I suppose nothing can be done. We wouldn't want to cause a scene."

"I'm glad you understand."

"Now, good man, if you could just direct us toward the 'coloreds only' drinking fountain, as I'd like to quench my thirst before we retire to our separate-but-equal apartment."

The pixie's brow furrowed. "Colored  _what,_  precisely?"

"Your efforts are wasted, Mother, I assure you," Artemis muttered out of the side of his mouth as he stood. Clearing his throat, he reached into his pocket and said, "How much is the meal worth?"

"Twelve," their waiter said quickly, most likely because he had been working there long enough to know the menu by heart.

"I'll remember that – and so will you." Artemis removed his hand holding a single gold coin, which he flipped in the air before catching it. Smiling his patented vampirish smile, he calmly walked away from the restaurant without another word, leaving his mother and bodyguard to send courteous nods in the waiter's direction before joining the young genius. Butler took his mushroom burger with him for added effect.

"We should have paid, anyway," his mother said in clipped tones as she kept pace with them. "Regardless of the poor service and vile atmosphere."

"I refuse to pay for what I'm not allowed to eat," Artemis volleyed. "Of all the- don't they know who they're dealing with?"

"I thought that cocky attitude was part of the reason you ended up in the funny farm," Butler asked through a mouthful of what only  _resembled_  meat and cheese.

"Please, stop treating me with kid gloves," he replied with a hefty dose of sarcasm. "Either way, the entire city must be aware of my identity and my reasons for lingering. It's not as if I'm just some hapless tourist who thought he knew the way to San José; I'm a patient receiving treatment. Until my clean bill of health comes through, I have every right to be here, and one would think that includes the right to ingest the necessary nutrients to keep my body functioning."

"One would be wrong," Butler mused.

"Arty, don't let yourself get so worked up," his mother soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We are strangers in a strange land, and the natives are restless. Let them think whatever they like about us. In the end, we'll be returning to our rightful home, and the law here will ensure that we aren't hurt or overly wronged until our departure."

"In theory," he muttered. "It's up to the Council how their high-minded morals are carried out in practice."

o o o

The moment he returned to the apartment, Artemis phoned Foaly directly. He was tempted to try Holly's number again, simply to see if he would be intercepted as before, but decided it was best to face things head-on.

"So they bounced you out of Chez Cheez," the centaur sighed.

"It was humiliating. Bad enough that I be told to, in the lay vernacular, 'piss off', but my  _mother_  was dining with me. Might I remind you that the only reason she's in Haven is to see to my well-being, and  _not_  to take a stand for Mud Man rights or run for office – can't the citizenry at least try their best to ignore us until we're out from underfoot?"

"Good luck selling it to the masses," Foaly chuckled. "You guys did the crime, and now you have to do the time – which, in this case, means 'being loathed for all  _time'_  rather than actual jail sentencing. The government's official position might be to let you guys hang around until you're cured of our pesky fairy ailment, but as far as the general populace is concerned, you're a menace. It's just like that movie,  _Attack Of The Eight-Foot Mud Men._ "

Artemis groaned. "Please tell me that's not an actual movie title."

"The leading lady won two awards. There were four sequels, and a remake of the original is due out next month."

"Christ Almighty."

"Look," Foaly sighed, taking pity on the poor humans, "I'll fax you over a couple of menus. These places don't care if you're Mud Men, demons, or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, they'll deliver to you. Minimal interaction with Havenites while you eat. And pay attention to Cazingo's; their spring rolls are to  _die_ for."

"Which means... they're poisonous?"

"Oh, very funny."

Before hanging up, Foaly tried to reassure him that any acts of cruelty committed against them by citizens would be dealt with as any other crime by LEP patrol officers, so there was no reason to keep themselves cooped up in the apartment all day every day. The three humans remained unconvinced.

Hours passed in relative silence as they flipped through magazines or the television dial. The point eventually came when Artemis felt his unfed stomach growl, and they gave Cazingo's a try. Though the dwarf holding the greasy bag yelped when he saw his customers, he recovered quickly and asked for the payment, then bowed with excessive politeness before high-tailing it out of there.

"Foaly has a point," Butler said as he chewed through a spring roll. "These are excellent. Also, it's nice to be able to eat them without being glared at."

"I'd rather be at a restaurant," Artemis sighed, picking through a rice-and-mushroom dish that seemed to be the product of a melding of Chinese, Latino and fairy cultures. "But at least we won't actually starve due to persecution."

"Mmm," Angeline cooed as she sampled the dumplings. "Rich, velvety center, and I detect a hint of lime, perhaps... I find myself transported." She glanced down at the menu on the table in front of her. "Perhaps next time I'll order this – what do you think it means, 'vole curry'?"

Artemis and Butler declined to answer, sharing a private smile as both minds wandered to Mulch Diggums and his unique diet.

o o o  _END Chapter Three_  o o o


	4. Complexity

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

When Artemis stepped outside for some fresh air (as fresh as the air ever gets below-ground), the sun-lamps on the cave ceiling far above were dimming. It was early evening, Haven Standard Time, after all.

Though he had promised his two on-hand guardians he would not stray far, he set out to do exactly that almost immediately. He wanted to be away from the city center, away from the stares and glares of its denizens. There was likely to be no such place as long as he was in Haven, but he had no better idea than to walk. Perhaps the sight of a singular Mud Man wouldn't be so upsetting as three of them.

He was, of course, mistaken. The stares followed him with as much apprehension as if he were the six-foot-plus Eurasian bodyguard, wielding his firearm in plain sight and snarling. Due to this, he kept to the main streets, making sure an LEP officer was always within his line of sight. This was a simple matter, as they were posted everywhere throughout the city. Even these regarded him as a threat, but they did not attack or shout at him, or even stop him for questioning. They merely stayed stock still in a state of heightened awareness.

A few of the street signs were familiar. He puzzled over why this could be for a few moments before he remembered: one of them was a cross street of the address where Holly Short hung her helmet. At some time or another, she must have mentioned this, despite the low likelihood that it would do him a bit of good.

 _Never say never,_  he thought, turning down the street.

Five minutes brought him to the other street, and a few minutes of pacing in circles prompted the flash of recall filling in the number. When he reached for the doorknob, a straggly elf in oversized clothing was just leaving.

"Pardon me," he said politely, holding the door open as he stepped aside. The man gaped at him, open mouthed, but decided not to confront such a towering, fearsome individual and fled. As Artemis stepped in, he noticed the call buttons on a plaque; this lucky coincidence had saved himself the trouble of being buzzed up.

Try as he might, he couldn't seem to bring the apartment number out of his memory. This turned out to be moot, as only one door had the acorn crest of the LEP logo hung just below the keyhole. This was probably to ward off any vandals or thieves who weren't brave enough to tangle with the police so directly. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell.

Nothing. That is, he heard a muted ring on the other side, one that reminded him of wind chimes, but no one unlocked the door to greet him warmly. Had he misremembered the address and merely happened upon the apartment of another LEP officer by mistake? Twice more he rang, waiting precisely one-and-a-half minutes between each push. No dice. Deciding she must still be at the office, he had only just turned a single brown loafer away from his friend's address when the metal portal was swung open by great force.

"For the love of  _Frond_ , did you have to drop by at a time like-  _OH!"_

_"AH!"_

Artemis found his heart thundering from the instant his occipital lobe had worked out that he was staring at a sopping-wet Holly with a bath towel wrapped around her torso. The furious expression hadn't quite faded, somehow overlapping with a shocked one as she clutched at the corner of the towel in the center of her chest. For three seconds, he took in the sight of her shining shoulders, tapering legs, and the sporty auburn hair plastered to her scalp. Then, just as he met her eyes again, he realized what he was doing and clapped a hand over his vision.

"I'm s-sorry," he began, amazed that he'd been driven to stuttering for perhaps the second or third time in his life. "You were- if I had known, I wouldn't- this m-must be something of a-"

And then the door slammed in his face.

"Right," he said miserably after a few seconds, heart still pumping more blood than necessary to his extremities. "I... should have anticipated that. Very well, perhaps I'll call again at another-"

The door opened the barest crack. Nothing happened for a few moments as he hesitated, hoping for a clue as to what his next course of action should be so as not to further anger the elfin captain. He got exactly that when she said in a low voice, "Do me a favor, and, uh... count to fifteen. Then you can come in – but  _not before._  Got it?"

Shrugging, he began doing so, opting to say the numbers aloud so she knew how far along in the count he was. Listening as he spoke, he caught the sound of sliding drawers, something crashing to the carpet, and then another door slamming. Opting to try his hand at a joke, he imitated the young children playing in the yard at his old primary school and sang out, "Ready or not, here I come!"

When he entered the small abode, he was first struck by the fact that Holly was not there. Shielding herself, perhaps? No; there was light coming from under a door in one wall. He noticed a few of the drawers in her bureau were only half-closed, unknown articles of clothing peeking out. A shattered vase that had been filled with flowers was slowly leaking onto the floor.

"I'll just... see to this, then," he announced, closing the front door behind him before rushing to the vase. He moved with slow precision, trying his best not to cut himself on the earthenware, but still he managed a slight nick. He quickly rinsed it off, leaving the pieces of the vase on the counter, before laying the flowers on the other side of the sink. Looking around, he at last found a hand towel, and he began mopping up the water with his uninjured hand, squeezing two fingers together to prevent further bleeding. He was just wringing the towel out when the backlit door opened.

"Don't laugh," she said in a subdued tone as she peeked around at him. "Promise, okay?"

"What?" he asked, startled into dropping the rag. "I... why would I laugh?"

"Just promise."

"I solemnly promise."

When Holly crept out from inside the lit room, he saw why she had asked this of him; instead of her usual uniform, she was wearing a billowy black skirt with white flower patterns along the hem, and a red, loose-fitting blouse with a plunging neckline. She was also wearing a mortified, uncomfortable scowl.

"Ahh," he said with an uncertain grin. "A paragon of pulchritude. And that's Artemis talking, not Orion, in case you worried."

"Shut your pie hole," she grunted, a touch of her irritation returning. "This wasn't what I meant to grab, I thought I had ahold of my jogging outfit. Is it... are you sure I don't look like an idiot?"

"Of course not," he soothed earnestly. "An unexpected ensemble on you, as I've rarely seen you in civilian dress to my recollection, but... not altogether unwelcome."

"Maybe if somebody hadn't interrupted my shower, I'd have had time to actually dress myself without panicking," she shot at him. "What are you doing here, anyway? Can't you call first?"

"I fancied a walk," he began, trying to decide if he was allowed to leave the kitchenette area. From the look of things, the People didn't believe in full-sized eating rooms at all. "Fresh air, stretching my legs. Said legs brought me here."

"How do you even know where I- wait, forget I asked," she grunted as she hurriedly stuffed some clothes back into a drawer to make it shut. At the last second, it dawned on him that some of said garments may have been  _delicates_ , and his cheeks took on a slight glow. "The great Artemis Fowl knows all and sees all."

"Well, yeah," he began, then cleared his throat. "On the other hand, you told me yourself, so it didn't take a great deal of detective work."

"Right," she breathed, more to herself than to him. "I did. Um... so, you thought you'd drop by and say 'hello'? No harm in that, I guess. And, uh, even though it was your fault, thanks for cleaning up the mess I created as I tore around my apartment like my head was alight."

"It was no trouble," he said, gesturing to the vase on the counter – needlessly. Why did he feel like a bundle of nerves? "I figured the sooner it was taken care of, the less damage done to your carpeting."

"Oh, no," she said, padding toward him. "You're bleeding."

"Just a scratch."

Calmly, she took his hand and squinted at the cut. "Yeah, but no sense letting you ooze onto my floors – that will do more damage than the vase." After a moment of concentration, she whispered, " _Heal,_ " and one or two blue sparks drifted from her fingertip to his, sealing the cut and forcing a few drops of blood back inside.

"They're blue again," he said in a surprised tone as he rubbed his fingers together. "I... had thought they'd turned amber."

"They had," she said with a slight smile. "But No1 did some kind of warlock aura-cleansing song-and-dance, and then I actually completed the ritual instead of stealing his magic for once. Fully-charged and running hot, except for this quick jolt for you, and it's like I'm about five years younger. It was probably just all our zany adventures catching up with me, making me  _feel_ like I was hitting my second century."

"That's great, then. I'm glad something could be done about it."

For what seemed like several hours, they stood there, his hand still held by her two smaller ones, smiling at each other. Now that she was dry, he was surprised to note that her hair, though still of a nominal length, wasn't as closely cropped as remembered. Had his psychosis prevented him from being even that observant?

"Your hair..."

"Hmm?"

He shrugged, suddenly nervous about addressing her appearance again. "Well, I was only going to say I like what you've done with it. But that sounds trite."

Holly's fingers curled around his as she squinted up at him. "You know, if you only trotted out your compliments without following up with a snide remark, you might get somewhere with girls."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Fun, huh?" She glanced down. "The way your shirt says 'Fun-O-Rama'?"

"Leave off my clothing," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Mother insists I dress down from time to time, as 'normal boys' don't wear Armani. A grave injustice."

A slight crinkling at the bridge of her nose gave away her mirth, though she stopped herself from laughing directly into his face. "Well, you almost look... oh, what is that Mud Man slang... 'cool', I think."

For some reason, though she had spent half of their relationship calling him "Mud Boy" or "Mud Man," this time it set his nerves on edge. He heaved a deep sigh, withdrawing his hand from hers, and stuffed himself into an elf-sized chair near her television. "Right. Mud. Cool."

"What is it?" she asked, more than sharp enough to catch his sudden mood swing. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Yes," he said first, then amended, "not that you meant to. If I say I've had a bellyful of the People's anti-human stance today, would that put you in the correct mindset to guess at what stories may follow?"

"Oh boy," she gusted as she plopped into a nearby seat, crossing her bare ankles as she leaned back. "Let's have it, both barrels. Face full of goblin dung? Rude graffiti on your Vespa?"

"As if there  _are_  Vespas down here," he mumbled. "No, nothing so outright or sensational. Simply a refusal of service at one of your fine dining establishments." "Chez Cheez kicked you to the kerb, huh?"

His eyebrow hiked. "How did you know? Did Foaly call?"

"Oh, it's a well-known fact that the head chef hates humans, and has been for years. He's not an exception to the rule, either, just more militant; anyone spouting pro-Mud sentimentality there is usually overcharged, or asked to find another chuck wagon."

"Chuck wagon, both barrels. Have you been watching American Westerns?"

She pouted slightly. "There  _might_  have been an all-week marathon on Mud TV."

"Mud TV, even!" he blustered. "Compared to Mulch Diggums,  _we_  are the Mud People? I can't begin to fathom the logic."

"You know, I'll give you that," she laughed aloud. "Never heard anyone make that point before. But come on, it's not as if it's-"

"Not as if it's derogatory? Look me in the eye – the one that once belonged to  _you_ , even – and tell me you honestly believe that."

Holly folded like a house of cards, staring down into her lap. "We don't mean anything by it – I don't, anyway. It's just... what you are. Gnomes are gnomes, centaurs are centaurs, and Mud Men are Mud Men."

"It implies we're too intellectually-stunted to pull ourselves up from the mud. Which we have; perhaps we're a step or two behind the People's timetable, but that doesn't make us primeval ignoramuses. We're getting there."

"But you're destroying the only planet we have in the process," she said bitterly, unable to keep her true feelings from her voice. "Asking the fairies to forget that is asking too much."

"Indeed," he said, pulling at his hair. "But  _slurs_  won't improve the situation. Perhaps you've been isolated from our race so long that it's been easy for fairies to be comfortable using the term; after all, if no Mud Men find out they're being called Mud Men, then it's a victimless crime. But it speaks volumes to state of mind. We're a flawed race, that much is plain, but we're not completely without worth, are we?"

Holly didn't answer.

 _"Are_ we?"

"No, of course not," she finally said, a hitch in her voice. "You only ask that because you know my answer has to be 'no' with you sitting across from me. But you're talking about millennia of resentment, Artemis – over what we lost, over what we can't prevent from happening on the surface! That doesn't fade away overnight, you know!"

"There are those of us on the surface who are  _trying_ to roll back the progress of pollution," he pressed. "I'm sure you know that; not I alone, but other groups, other individuals. On the other hoof, there are plenty of dwarfs and goblins and other fairies who still eat animal flesh, who don't use proper waste receptacles, and also those who have no qualms about selling out their own people just so they can become queen of the earth."

"By all means, judge the entire population based on  _Opal,_ " Holly snapped. "That's completely fine. Shall I turn to a Hitler or a Hussein in your own history?"

"But that is  _exactly_  my point. No one race of people – or People – can be judged based on the actions of individuals. Even judging a race as a whole is setting yourself up to fail. Look at the demons and imps. Most of them are bloodthirsty savages, but what of the others? Are they to be lumped in with the dross based on their gray skin and red markings?"

"Why are you grandstanding to  _me?"_  Holly shouted from nowhere, leaping to her feet. "I actually  _like_  you, if you haven't picked up on it! So go grab a soapbox and plunk it down in Westside Stadium if you have to, but don't screech and moan in my apartment until I start crying, which I am now  _real_ close to doing!"

Five seconds passed as Artemis got a good look at his friend, and at the blotches near her eyes, the shiver in her spine. All the day's inconveniences had bubbled to the surface as soon as she mentioned the words that set him off, and he had let it, glad of the release. It was too high a price to pay.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, standing nervously. "That was... Good Lord, I only wanted to get it off my chest, but I should have realized there was no need for you to endure the brunt of my frustrations. I apologize."

"Apology  _not_  accepted," she growled through her teeth. "Poor humans crawling all over the surface of our world, while we grow mold in caves! Poor humans walking around in broad daylight, while we have to shield ourselves to avoid being bagged and tagged by your governments! Maybe you have a point, maybe we shouldn't be using those words, but somehow I don't think you're being slighted nearly as much as we have been for  _centuries!"_

"I know," he said, bending over her chair. For a moment he expected her to lash out and punch him in the gut, but instead she folded her arms as she sank into the material, eyes cast in any direction but his. "I... it's awful. If only there were some way to reintroduce you to  _Homo sapiens_  without starting an inter-species war, to bring you out of these caves, I would be all for it. Who knows? Perhaps I'll pioneer it someday."

"It's like a raw, open wound. Every time I think about the lives of freedom we could have if only  _you_ had been shunted into this miserable pit instead of us, I feel so cold. So angry."

"That wouldn't be any better and you know it. Nobody should have been forced into hiding. Racial supremacy is inefficient and nonsensical." His fist struck the arm of her chair. "I'd apologize on behalf of my people if I thought it meant anything, but the naked truth is, it doesn't. All I can do is make some pathetic reparations for myself and hope others do the same."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"For... for calling you Mud Boy all the time," she whispered wetly, still not meeting his eyes. "I guess I didn't realize you were offended by it. Which means I wasn't thinking."

"Forget about it. I... I don't mind. I'll probably miss it if you stop."

"No," she said, swiping at the streaks on her face. "No, you were right. Even as a joke, or among friends, at its heart it's a hateful term. And I need to quit using it. Ignorance only works as an excuse until you wise up."

Now Artemis was stricken by his own foolishness. He should never have come, not in the mood he was in. Everything was going wrong, and would probably continue to degenerate in his presence.

"So... I'll be leaving now, I think. I didn't mean to ruin your evening. Goodnight."

But when he made to stand, her hands latched onto his forearms – and he knew better than to tug away. Her strength was far greater than his. "Don't go yet."

"Why would you want me to stay?" he sighed. "I'm being my usual boorish self, right on schedule."

"I missed you. Seriously, I wanted to come by the clinic all week, but I felt like I couldn't. My last visit was..."

"Surreal?"

"Surreal. And every time I got halfway down the street in your direction, I'd run back home or along to work with my tail between my legs. Like a coward."

He shook his head. "It's not cowardly. Sometimes... people need space. In this case, it was you. One of the many fine platitudes I've learned from Dr. Argon, most of which sound just as smarmy."

The laugh she allowed herself sounded so much more sad than the crying somehow that Artemis was wrapping both arms around her before he realized he'd even moved. It wasn't as comforting as it normally would be for him, as he could feel her flesh and sinew more easily through the thin material of her clothes, when it was normally shielded by the armoured plating of her flight uniform. Given their patchy history, this felt more than a hair inappropriate, but on the other hand, it was only a hug.

However, she seemed to share this notion. "It's soft; your shirt, I mean. So different from the usual inch-thick suit jackets you wear."

"I confess myself a tad chilly," he said lightly, happy to be talking about anything besides mixed-up feelings and conceptual fairy-human treaties. "I'm too accustomed to the multiple layers."

"I could help you warm up."

When he drew back to gape at her, she coughed, trying to pass this off as the reason her cheeks were tinged with pink. "Er, that is, I've got a few blankets. And tea, if you want some tea."

"I'll make a pot for us," he volunteered, feeling he'd imposed plenty without asking her to wait on him hand and foot. So this is just what he did, bustling around the tiny kitchen while she retrieved a few blankets from the chest hidden beneath her coffee table-top. Once they were draped in them and sipping away, facing each other in her only two chairs, a silence thick with discomfort settled over them. Where did they go from this point? It was a tricky transition.

"So I saw you on the news," he began.

"Really? Oh... the suicide bomber. Yeah, fun day in the line of duty, almost getting blown sky high."

"You were dashing as always."

"Don't try getting on my good side, Mud B- Master Fowl," she said forcefully. They both smiled hopefully, and when they noticed they were not alone in doing so the tension that had flared up abated. "Going to have to retrain myself."

"All things in good time. So, as you were saying about me buttering you up?"

"So you admit that's what you were doing, eh?"

He shook his head. "Perish the thought; merely credit where credit is due. An asset to the community, that's Holly Short."

"Asset? Maybe the first half of the word." She grunted, leaning back and holding her body so straight that she was almost sliding into the floor, heels scarcely preventing it from happening. "Trouble chewed me out for at least half an hour for doing that, even while a steady stream of other officers dropped by to congratulate me on my 'daring deed', to quote his little brother Grub."

"Sounds like a long day."

"Yep. We can't always be stopping molten iron from gouging out half of Haven; some days, you just walk the beat. Which I did, from morning to about an hour ago - moment of glory notwithstanding."

"Sorry," he apologized after taking a sip of her tea; it reminded him vaguely of Darjeeling... "I ought to have reasoned that even if you  _were_  home yet, you would have only stepped in from your job moments before I arrived."

"No harm, no foul, Fowl," she joked. "The shower did wonders for my disposition, even if my feet are still killing me. I could do without the peace summit as late night entertainment, though."

"I have wondered about that, if you'll pardon my prying; shouldn't your sparks be taking care of any residual aches and pains?"

The corner of her mouth turned up as she breathed in the aroma from her cup. "Nah. I could do that, but then I'd be riding a surface shot to Tara for the ritual every three days or so – which is more often than the moon is full. No, it's more economical to tough it out so I still have magic when it counts."

"Maybe so. But I think I could, perhaps, do something about it, if you'll allow a beginner to try his hand?"

"Hmm?" She watched, bemused, as he scooted his chair closer, set their teacups aside on the table, then reached down and picked up one of her ankles. "Oh, no you don't, Mud Boy; trying to get frisky isn't going to net you any bonus points."

 _Frisky,_  he reflected, snorting. "Hardly. And I thought we were working on our language? There are young ears in this room."

"They don't get much younger than yours,  _Artemis_ ," she said, placing the emphasis on his name to make it known that she was, indeed, working on it. "But you'd better explain yourself before that leg you're holding causes you unspeakable pain in places you don't  _want_  pain."

"Dr. Argon authorized spa treatments for his patients, especially the ones who seem to be recovering smoothly," he explained himself. "This was, in fact, a first for me, as I've always seen relaxing in mud baths to be a waste of time – and here I  _will_  permit you a Mud Man joke if you so wish, as the irony of my insisting earlier that we do  _not_ dwell in mud has not escaped me."

"I decline," she said airily.

"Very well, your loss. At any rate, I found this to be immensely beneficial, and I've studied the technique, but... well, as I said, I'm a novice, so bear with me."

"Bear with you? I can't even follow your train of thougHAAAHhh..."

The instant his thumbs dug into the tender flesh of her sole, every part of her tensed; he could feel it beneath his hands and observe it easily. A few seconds after this, the exact opposite happened; she melted like a Mars bar in the summer sun, head lolling to one side as she moaned weakly. He noted the lack of callouses; it was to be expected that anyone who spent as much time in police-issue boots as Holly Short would have them in spades, but apparently the fairies (or most likely Foaly himself) had designed the footwear to be so tailored to the needs of their physiology that none had developed. Artemis made a mental note to ask Foaly for his specifications.

"So," he asked tentatively after several minutes of naught but the occasional moan. "How am I doing?"

"Oh gods, Artemis," she called out, voice quavering. "That's so... it's like being back on Cominetto with their world-class masseuses. Can I keep you forever?"

"You can have me on loan, I suppose. I was worried that I'd missed an important step in the process, only having observed it twice, but perhaps there's not as much to this as I'd worried there m-"

 _"AAIIIEE!"_ she squealed when his fingers moved up to her toes. "Wow, how are you  _doing_  that? This ought to be illegal!"

Artemis smirked; was she putting on a show for his benefit, or was it truly what she'd needed most? "You know, I am reminded of something our legally-challenged friend Mulch told me about the soles of the feet. That there is a part of them that correspond to every area of the body."

"The body," she panted, arms flopping uselessly over the arm rests as her neck elongated.

"We humans call it  _reflexology,_  but I'm sure there's a fairy term that-"

"Oh, shut up and knead," she half-laughed, eyes squeezing shut. "I've never felt this good in my entire life!"

She commanded, and he obeyed, silently pushing into her aching joints, grinning at her near-theatrical movements and sounds. Intriguing how the dainty little appendages could be in so much agony that the release was this monumental. The instant he ceased, about to ask if she wanted him to continue, her other foot was suddenly hovering in his face; time to switch, he deduced. As soon as he started in on that one, the first dropped away as she convulsed all over again, laughing and moaning and, if he wasn't mistaken, sweating. Or perhaps she hadn't been entirely dry from the shower? He couldn't be one hundred per cent sure either way.

"Artemis!" she moaned, a hand playing across her collarbone. "Yes, Artemis,  _yes!_ More, give me more!"

Now he knew his ears and face were reddening; the noises issuing from her throat were sounding less like contentment and more akin to... excitement. His experience in such matters was literally nil, however, and he forced himself to continue his sacred duty without thinking too deeply on it.

Then, to his confusion, her now-neglected foot was jabbing at his hand, trying to separate it from the other. Making an educated guess, he began using a thumb to rub each sole, and Holly Short lost it entirely.

" _Yeah!_ That's it, that's it  _riiiight_  there! Oh, yes, Artemis, make me feel good, good all over!"

"Eh?" he couldn't help sputtering out, but she wasn't through; as he looked on numbly, she rolled slightly to one side, thighs squeezing together, hands gripping her upper arms. She shivered and bucked, laughing the most gorgeous, carefree laugh he'd ever heard from any creature, then utterly deflated.

"Hahh... hahaha, that was... special..."

"Holly, are you, er, well?"

"Mmm," she mumbled, eyes glazed over when she opened them to stare at him. "That was so amazing... where did you... Dr. Argon? Remind me to send that man a fruit basket; he's a gem!"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said, amused. "Honestly, Holly, all those exaggerated actions... you were having me on, correct?"

"Having you... on..."

And his mighty brain flew directly out the window when she sprang from her own chair and into his, lips mashing in, suckling, kissing him so deeply that he was instantly whisked away to the last time this had happened nine years in the past. As then, she draped her body over his, embracing him, cooing into his mouth with unadulterated want.

"Holly!" he gasped, pushing her a few inches backward. "Are you... what is this? Why are you doing this now?"

"To thank you," she whispered, bending at the waist and granting him a better view of that plunging neckline. He did his best to avoid it. "That... I know you thought I was hamming it up or whatever, but that was all me – no, scratch that. It was all  _you._  Nothing's made me feel that good since I graduated the academy, and I mean it, I  _so_  mean it – it was... wait..."

"Was?"

Her eyes were brimming with fresh tears as she stroked his cheek. "Do you remember? You and I in the time tunnel?"

His heart skipped over a beat. "I do. It blended every atom of us together as we traversed. We were one."

"Since then. That was the last time I've felt this...  _whole_."

Against all his personal wishes, he cleared his throat and whispered, "Holly, I do want you to understand, and to ponder for a moment. What you're saying has... implications."

"I don't care," she sighed, snuggling into his neck. "That's what's been holding me back up until now, the implications, the stigma and the worries and all that other junk. And I'm through, because now I know what I want. And it's you."

_"What?"_

"Hearing loss, at fifteen?" she chuckled. "Come on, don't play dumb. Or I guess that would be playing deaf, not dumb..."

"No, I m-mean..." His face was entirely flushed, but somehow he couldn't quite be horrified or disapproving. Nervous and anxious, and more than a little perplexed, but with her soft, heated form curled up in his lap, it was impossible to dismiss the idea out of hand. "But y-you told me my elf-kissing days-"

"Bah," she said, swiping her hand at the air as if her former words were hanging there. "Pretend I never said it. Your elf-kissing days are just  _starting_ , Artemis.  _Every_  day can be elf-kissing day! That is... if it's what you want, too." She sat back, eyes wide, lip quivering as the color drained from her face. "Is it? I m-mean... D'Arvit, it's all coming back to me now, the reason I was so wishy-washy. Because I couldn't be sure of  _your_  feelings. B-but it's too late now, I've already put myself out there. Oh, gods, what have I done, what if you hate me for ruining the solid thing we had g-"

"No, no, don't feel like that," he rushed ahead, mind clouded with a haze of Holly. Even so, though he knew he wasn't using his higher reasoning, the instinct he largely ignored told him that this was proper and worthwhile. Never before had he ached to listen to it so much. "The kiss, it was nice.  _This_  is nice. How could I regret it when I feel so... jubilant?"

"It doesn't bother you?" she whispered, tracing a hand along his cheek. "What I am? I'm an entirely different  _species._  What if we're not even... compatible? You might as well be snuggling with a troll or a rhinoceros."

A smile escaped from within the fog banks. "I daresay you're a more pleasant sight than either of those. As for whether I mind you being another species, bugger that; it didn't seem to bother Turnball, and I'd like to think myself at least as open-minded as that despot."

"But there's so many other- wh-what if we have half-elf babies? Will they be raised here, or up there? What-"

 _"Babies!"_  he burst out.

She winced. "Sorry! Sorry, too soon,  _way_ too soon, why did I even say that? I am majorly jumping the gun!"

"Babies," he echoed dully, chest heaving. Why did it feel so tight?

"Look at me," she told him, hands on the sides of his face. "No babies. I do have contraception, you know, I... just never had much occasion to use it until now."

Now his chest was tight for a different reason altogether. "Until... now? Right now? We need it right now?"

At that, she snickered, though the uncertainty remained in her tone when she spoke again. "No, not right now, because it seems to me like 'right now' may result in cardiac arrest. But... just tell me, and I'm going to blurt this out before you can suddenly reveal that you're not the real Artemis, or you're selling me to Koboi Labs or something, because even if you were I would still mean it."

"Wh-"

Precisely as she'd steeled herself to do, she overrode him to ask her urgent question. "Could we give us a shot? Am I good enough for you?"

"Are _you-_ " He almost laughed at her. "I'm the one who's a substandard specimen! Brilliant, yes, but miserable in the people skills area! And you are all emotion and fire, while I am cold calculation, and what in God's name are we  _doing?_  But if you don't mind those bits about us being polar opposites, then I would of course be the luckiest Mud Man on this stupid mud ball!"

Huge droplets cascaded down her cheeks as she pinched his mouth in her vice-like grip. "Don't call my Arty a mud-anything."

That threatened to rupture his heart then and there.  _She called me Arty again. HER Arty. And coming from her, it sounds like a radiant song._

Both of his hands slid up the backs of her smooth thighs as her lips pounced upon his again, finding her firm, toned posterior and holding on for dear life as she straddled him, channeling all her previous uncertainty and reservations into attack, tongue finding his and trying to skewer it. He remembered merging with her in the time stream, her hovering over him in the gorilla cage... and it all made sense. Not a part of him questioned this decision anymore.

"But we- what about cardiac arrest?" she gasped when she felt his hand working its way beneath her blouse next.

He glanced up at his elfin goddess, knowing that their ill-fated romance may lead to their individual and collective ruin; he felt like the captain of the Titanic, steering straight for the biggest iceberg the world had ever seen. The two had done quite similar things over the course of their friendship. This might be a more dangerous adventure, but they always had lived dangerously. They reveled in it.

"Damn the torpedoes."

Holly's hand reached for the light switch.

o o o  _END Chapter Four_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars and garters! One thing leads to another, eh? Perhaps you're thinking just now, "Wait, we've already jumped to the good stuff. What gives? Four chapters and that's it?" That's what YOU think. There is plenty – and I stress plenty – more waiting in the wings for our poor, doomed couple. Gracias por los comentarios; I thrive on your input. Fat Lantern: of course Artemis is laid-back. He's just undergone extensive therapy - if he wasn't, then Argon's not doing his job! Yes, the temptation is there to permanently alter him to being a twitchy wreck on the edge of nervous breakdown but I decided that didn't feel right for my story... and also, I figured if Orion was integrated into his own personality, wouldn't that make Artemis less stressed, and (as I've just demonstrated) more passionate about Holly? Hmm, delicious...
> 
> Next, the morning after :vampiric grin:


	5. Vitalization

**HOLLY SHORT'S APARTMENT, HAVEN CITY; NOW**

When Artemis Fowl the Second awoke, he didn't know where he was. Although this isn't to say he didn't have an opinion; he was mostly sure he was reclining in his bed at the J. Argon Clinic. But the lack of institutional lighting seemed to contradict this fact. How could that be? If he wasn't in his room on the ward, then where was he?

When he tried to shift himself to a sitting position, he got his answer in the form of a weight in the crook of his shoulder. Glancing down toward it, seeing the auburn head sleeping there, it slowly trickled back to him; his release, dining with his mother and bodyguard... taking a brisk walk that lead him to her door. A flash of remembrance painted a picture of last night, and he found himself grinning. He and Holly...

Two conflicting instincts blossomed: one to leap from the bed and begin analyzing the situation, trying to determine his next course of action, and one to lay still and soak it all in. After tensing for a moment, he settled on the latter. This was an unprecedented paradise he was in, with her nude form pressed against his, the simulated early-morning light filtering through her curtains. There would be plenty of time to analyze later.

Perhaps only a few minutes passed this way, perhaps an hour. The only thing he could be sure of is that he enjoyed it more thoroughly than a chess match against a grandmaster or personally inventing something that put the so-called "latest" technology to shame. For the first time he could ever remember, he wasn't just exhilarated or vindicated; he was  _happy._  The Artemis from the day before hadn't even known the meaning of the word, as he now beheld.  _This_  was true happiness; having a dear friend become this close to you, and figuratively dancing within the union, filled to the brim. It was the sweetest ambrosia.

Then an annoying beeping sounded. He cursed it with the same amount of venom that he cursed the name of Opal Koboi. This simply would not do... but he couldn't be sure of its source or function, so he was powerless to make it cease. And, as he had feared, it roused his slumbering angel.

"What's that racket?" she growled, and Artemis laughed. "Hmm?"

The beeping ceased, and in the settling quietude she looked up into his eyes, and he found himself holding his breath. Had he ever been so struck by anything that he'd  _held his breath_  before? When comprehension sparked behind her hazel-and-blue eyes and she smiled the most perfect smile he'd ever seen, he released the air. He would have beamed back down at her, but he already was. Her neck stretched out, her lips met his, and he gratefully returned the favor as if he'd been waiting on that for decades. A part of him had.

"Hey," she said, voice husky with sleep.

He passed a hand up and down her silken back, basking in the simple delight of it. "Good morning, Holly."

"What was it again?" she asked, settling back into him.

"Sorry?"

"Artemis. Where does the name come from?"

His smile took a wry turn; being teased about having a girl's name grew tiresome. "It's the Greek goddess of the hunt and wild. Thanks for reminding me."

"A deity. How  _very_  appropriate." When he flushed and coughed, she giggled, arm tightening around his chest. "Better than mine; Holly is just some kind of tree."

"Well, I do recall some swinging from your boughs..."

Then she pinched his nipple, and he yelped. They were both laughing when the beeping sounded again.

"Hades take it, what  _is_  that? I'm trying to languish within the morning after."

"D'Arvit," she swore, sitting upright and clutching the bedsheets to her chest. "I'm late for work! Oh, I'm going to get flayed alive!"

"Hopefully not," he said as she struggled to her feet, taking the linens with her. "I'm afraid I like your skin precisely where it is."

At these words, she tripped over her own feet, showing him a spectacular view of her back that he etched into his memory. There was a light half-moon scar on one of her hindcheeks that he'd have to ask her about sometime. Then she turned and looked back at him, wearing a nervous-yet-mischievous grin as she continued to obscure her form with the sheet. "When did you get so poetic and swoony?"

"Relax, this isn't Orion's resurgence; but now I see what he saw. With astounding lucidity."

"You've seen more than that," she told him, wagging a "naughty, naughty" finger as she reversed into the shower room. He heard the water start up before she called out, "Um, do me a huge favor and, er, be dressed when I get out?"

"Why?"

"So I'll be able to leave and won't wreck my career by being even later than I already am."

Almost giggling himself, he did as she asked, finding his clothing in all sorts of unlikely locales. When he pushed his way into the shower room, he heard her yelp from behind the curtain, but he kindly ignored it. "Out of curiosity, have you a spare toothbrush? As I'd like to at least be that freshened when I venture out."

"Sorry," she sighed into the heated stream. "I should get on that, too; mine's on its last legs. If you want, you can pick up a pack for us while I'm on duty, save me some trouble."

 _"Us,"_ he repeated, and a few embarrassed gales floated out of the shower. "I'll see what I can scare up."

"And in a related topic," she said, poking her head out from behind the curtain, drips from her chin slowly forming a pool on the floor. "Hand me a new bar of soap?"

Instead of that, he leaned in and kissed her drenched face, and he heard one of her feet slip across the floor as she struggled to maintain her balance. A brief and simple delight. Then a small hand was forcibly pushing his face away as she giggled, "Alright,  _enough,_  lover boy – I need soap!"

"Soap you shall have!" he laughed as he rooted through her vanity. Trying his best to ignore products he'd rather not understand the use of, he found it and passed it through, then dried his slightly-dampened face on a hand towel before he went back out into the main living area. Deciding it would be better than morning breath, he swilled the rest of his tea from the night before, then flipped on the news to wait for her to finish up. There wasn't much to be seen; more in-depth reports about the mad bomber, digging into his life story. His mother could have sworn he was a good son...

"Sorry to love you and leave you," she said as she exited, still struggling into the one-piece all LEP officers wear under their flight suits, "but I can't pay the rent if I get fired. Kelp takes a harder line with tardiness than Commander Root ever did, which is saying something."

"Should I be waiting here for your return?"

"Yes, please," she said in deadpan tones as she found the rest of her uniform. "Hang around my boring little hole-in-the-wall all day long. Artemis, I might not even be home when I'm technically supposed to; they could be a case that requires me to work late. Go visit with your mum and Butler."

"That's what I was trying to avoid," he muttered. "Explaining my whereabouts. Certainly, I have a dozen anxious voicemails to sift through at the least."

"Just tell them you were broadening your horizons with the locals," she told him with a wink, which caused him to blush again. She may have been blushing as well, but the rouge in her features could as easily have been a result of her frantic attempts to reach Police Plaza. "Or, y'know, that we stayed up chatting, and then you got too sleepy to make it home. Just leave out the details in between."

"Thanks for giving myself, Artemis Fowl, a lecture on being creative with the truth; it's the very thing I needed."

"Touché." With that, she stuffed her feet into her boots, letting out a pleasant giggle. "Wow, that doesn't send nearly as many shooting pains up my calves as it did yesterday; you really worked out all the kinks, didn't you?"

 _"All_ the kinks." And then, to his surprise, she hopped up onto the seat of a chair and leaned down for a kiss, which he accepted with great gusto before she pushed him back. "Aww, I was enjoying that."

"More to come later," she promised, hopping back down. "But I couldn't leave without one for the road. Begrudge me?"

 _And she worried that we wouldn't be compatible._ "Heavens forfend."

"Sure they do," she laughed, opening the door and glancing from left to right. "Okay, the coast is clear."

He tiptoed out, and she slapped him on the behind as he passed, motivating him to quicken the pace – and he found he didn't altogether dislike this action. What transformation had taken place during the night? Every facet of his outlook on life was rosier, full of far more promise than he'd thought imaginable. And he'd imagined quite a lot of promise to begin with.

"If you can handle it, I'm going to ask you to count again – which I'm sorry about doing last night, I wasn't thinking clearly enough."

"I can endure counting," he insisted. "Reaching the integer between three and five still gives me a slight flash of queasiness, but not so strong that I can't keep my breakfast down."

"Then wait two minutes," she whispered, hoping not to wake any other neighbors. "By that time I'll be far enough away that nobody will know you slept here."

"Hmm, and why shouldn't they?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If I didn't know any better, Arty, I'd say you were taking stupid pills. Weren't you the one who went on some noisy diatribe about fairy attitudes toward the Sons of Adam?"

"Point taken; not one I like, but one I can appreciate." Casting his own glance around now, he gave her a fleeting peck on the cheek, which forced an involuntary blast of laughter to shoot out of the back of her throat. "Until we meet again."

Her eyes crinkled with ill-suppressed glee. "See ya 'round, pardner."

"No more Westerns for you."

o o o

It was all Artemis could do not to click his heels together as he strolled down the brilliantly-lit lane toward his mother's apartment. Colors seemed brighter, sounds seemed heavenly... and even the dour stares of the fairies seemed less hostile. Tempered by genius and the vestiges of a Messiah Complex threatening to overtake the Atlantis one, he was now first and foremost in love.

The lovestruck boy was a mere block away when an arm took his and steered him resolutely down an adjoining alley. Only a moment before he tried some form of self-defence did he recognize his assailant as- "Butler?"

"Shh," the man bade him, raising a finger to his lips. After a moment to be sure Artemis would heed his warning, he stood erect, straightened his suit jacket, and bent down again to whisper, "Will you be requiring an alibi?"

"Alibi? I don't follow, old friend."

"For your absence of the previous night." Ever the professional, Butler did not smirk nor titter, but there was a glint in his eye that no amount of training under Madam Ko could stamp out. "Unless you intend to take the tack of full disclosure with your parents?"

"Full dis-  _no,_ " he breathed, eyes widening. "You weren't sp- please, Butler, reassure me that you were not indeed  _spying_  on my- my nocturnal activities!"

"Only up to and including your whereabouts. Of course, it doesn't take a criminal mastermind to infer..."

"This takes the biscuit," Artemis growled. "Less than an hour to bask in the newness of it all before it becomes public knowledge."

"Not public as of yet. I assured your mother last night that you were probably visiting with one friend or another, and this morning offered to search for you. Therefore, whatever story you'd like to run with is fair game."

Artemis contemplated this. "Holly did say I should claim we stayed up talking, after which I grew too drowsy to wend my way home-makeshift-home. It's as plausible as any story, and only a lie of omission."

"Those are usually the kindest to one's parents," Butler agreed. "Not a complete fabrication, but not  _too much_  honesty, which might send them to an early grave."

"Not to second-guess myself, but... you don't believe I've made a colossal  _faux pas,_  do you? By, ahem,  _consorting_  with an elf?"

Butler brought about an expression that strayed perilously close to being a smirk. "Frankly, Artemis, I'm a little surprised it took this long. With this particular elf, that is."

"But she's- and I'm a-"

"You're speaking to a Eurasian," he reminded the young genius. "A product of two cultures that are different as night and day. As if I'm completely unfamiliar with the concept of mixing where mixing is generally discouraged. Holly Short is a remarkable woman. How could I fault you?"

This merited a brotherly pat on the back. Alas, the height Butler held on his young principal made this an unattainable goal, so Artemis settled for a firm grasp on the bicep; the extent of his reach. "Thank you, old friend."

"My pleasure." The man clapped a hand to Artemis's shoulder and began steering him toward their current dwelling. "Now, be sure to appear groggy and not so...  _thrilled_  when we greet your mother, or you'll give yourself away."

"I believe I can manage a passable poker face, if you please."

Butler chuckled. "Yes, but can you manage a poker face when you're glowing like a stoplight?"

"Am I glowing? Really?"

"Exactly the hapless response of someone who's glowing."

Artemis frowned.

o o o

It took the better part of an hour for Artemis to convince his mother that he hadn't been kidnapped, nor attempted to overthrow the Council during his night out. When he insisted he and Holly had delved into a conversation that lasted so long he was too tired to walk home, his mother became yet more suspicious than she was when he started.

"So you... talked? All night?"

"Yes," he said firmly, forcing every thought of the actual events from his mind; it was, as Butler had anticipated, nigh impossible to keep a straight face when all he wanted to do was burst into some infernal musical number as he pirouetted down the streets of Haven. Behavior he would normally sneer at was beginning to feel more than appropriate. "I'm sorry to say it was on the subject of human-fairy diplomacy, or lack thereof. She was... somewhat upset with me, but by the end of the night we smoothed things over."

"You're going to have to watch that," she replied, going back to her sewing. It appeared this was one of the many things Butler had retrieved for her on his trip to the surface. "It is disquieting, of course, but it's an attitude they've been living with comfortably for millennia, I'm sure. Perhaps, given time, we can all reach an understanding, but until then..."

"Until then we're permanently on opposing sides."

"On the nose." After a few seconds, she glanced up from her project, an eyebrow raised. "Though I'm not sure I approve of your having two-person slumber parties with a girl at your age, pixie or no pixie."

" _Elf,_  Mother, not pixie," he corrected, hoping to use this to deflect the issue, but her stern glare told him this was an unwise course of action. "And I appreciate your concern, but really, this is Captain Short. We are good friends. And when's the last time you can honestly remember me sleeping over at a friend's house? I expected you to be tickled pink."

"Of course it's a beautiful thing that you have actual companions," she soothed. "Something I've been praying for nightly for some time, now. But there are certain rules of propriety that can't be ignored, and sleeping in the same room with a lady... well, even if the law  _thinks_  you're of age, I know better, and I shan't be convinced you're ready for-"

"Please, Mother!" he blustered, trying to keep the heat out of his face. "Father and I have had this 'birds and bees' talk long ago, it's- I implore you to keep out of it! Besides, I find it to currently be a non-issue!"

"Arty-"

"When I start inquiring about bunking with Minerva Paradiso, then you may offer all the motherly advice you want – or ground me until I'm twenty."

She raised both hands to the sky, as if imploring some heavenly being to come down and drive some wisdom into her son's skull. "Fine, fine. Do as you like; I trust your word. For now. Just be sure and call and  _say_ you're not coming home, you know how I worry."

"Thank you."

"But so help me, if you come to me with tales of a pregnant elf, grounding will be the least of your worries."

Artemis's mouth flew open.  _"Mother!"_

o o o

After a quick shower and change, Artemis and Butler went out to grab some lunch with Mulch Diggums. It had taken some doing to unearth his unlisted number, but Artemis is nothing if not resourceful.

"So how long are you in for?" the diminutive dwarf asked without preamble.

"Eh?"

"Sorry, Mud Boy," he laughed around a bite of his beloved vole curry. "Prison talk; I'm not used to asking mental patients instead of convicts."

"I've been discharged," Artemis answered out the side of his mouth. "Two weeks of follow-up therapy sessions and I'll be declared fit to resume my normal day-to-day."

"Peachy keen." He wiped his mouth on a napkin – an unusual show of manners for Mulch – then burped loudly enough to make most of the other patrons shiver. "Tell me, though; now that you've had a longer look at it, how do you like our fair metropolis?"

Butler smiled. "Well, everything is very-"

"Low," Mulch finished for him. "Didn't build it to accommodate the humans, did we? If the Council ever chose to open it up for Mud Man tourism, I can't imagine how much we'd have to remodel every single doorway and ceiling to achieve a more welcoming height..."

"Indeed," Artemis said. "How's the private investigations business?"

Mulch frowned. "Lousy. Doodah and I haven't had a single case in three days.  _Three days._  Granted, most of the cases we do get are small potatoes, but it's nice to have a steady stream of cash coming in. But I predict an upswing in city crime any time now."

"Really?"

Mulch leaned over, beard drooping into his curry. He seemed to take no notice of this. "There's a shipment of contraband coming in. All I can get out of my sources is that it's soon, and it's big. Mud Man DVDs, banned food products – even a few guns, for all the good the pathetic metal rounds will do the daffy dodgers who are ignorant enough to want them. I may not be able to head the actual shipment off, but once it hits the streets..."

"You'll be up to your elbows in small-time crooks," Butler guessed.

"Bingo, my friend. Then Mulch Diggums, PI, will clean up this town – and clean up in the process, if you catch my draught."

"You mean 'catch my drift'," said Artemis as he took a sip of his tea.

The squat man cocked an eyebrow as he swilled the contents of a hip flask. "Why would a dwarf say 'drift' when he meant 'draught'? And you're supposed to be the big genius - pah!"

o o o

For the remainder of the evening, Artemis put on some David Bowie in the background and busied himself with his PowerBook. It had taken him up to this point to grow bored with the change in his surroundings, but being that the activity most open to him in a city full of human-haters was lingering around the apartment, it seemed like a good time to catch up on world events. Bombings, company buyouts, and celebrity obituaries slowly settled into their rightful places within his orderly mind – or orderly once again, now that the chemicals had put it as it should be.

Once he'd reacquainted himself with the universe, he set about redesigning and double-checking many aspects of  _THE PROJECT_ , also known as the Ice Cube, that was designed to help lessen the melting of the polar ice caps. It was mostly to give himself something to do; the calculations had been perfect and he knew this. Just because he'd had no opportunity to truly test it due to an unexpected crashing space probe didn't mean it was in need of reworking. Then again, it didn't mean it was finished, either; if the pod hadn't come down on their heads, he had no guarantee his test would have been successful. Perhaps by going over the plans he may spot some tiny flaw he'd overlooked before initial production.

Several hours later he sat back and closed the laptop, satisfied. There had been no flaws. He did tweak one or two variables to cause its energy consumption to be more efficient, but that was a minor detail. And, of course, he redesigned the housing; it had been an inelegant horror, but at the time it had seemed far more urgent that he get it running rather than squander his time on aesthetics.

Cazingo's was going to have to become a regular ritual for their family unit until they returned to Ireland. The delivery dwarf greeted them warmly, as he seemed to have decided that since he hadn't been clubbed to death the last time he was on their doorstep that they were just like any other paying customers. Without a good supply of groceries or a wider selection of restaurants that would deign to serve them, it was nice to at least have that option open.

Following this, they settled in to watch a motion picture reenactment of the battle between the humans and the People. The on-screen guide informed them that it was part one of three. Five minutes into the film Artemis realized that he was the only one of them fluent in Gnommish, so he quickly patched a few wires and was able to run the sound through his PowerBook, where a program he had been tinkering with on and off for several months converted the speech to English with about ninety per cent accuracy. The words the program couldn't translate were filled in by him, which didn't detract from the plot overly but was still cumbersome. He'd have to make perfecting it tomorrow's project.

Once the movie was over, he stretched casually and declared, "Well, I'm thinking about popping over to Holly's for a while. It seems to me that our debate could use a follow-up to quash any residual hard feelings."

" _Really?_ " his mother began with a knowing smile. "Would this follow-up involve any wooing on your part?"

He straightened his suit jacket, having no desire to be seen again in the all-too-casual clothing his mother had picked out for him. "Must we revisit this odious subject? I tell you, we merely enjoy each other's company. To be entirely honest with you, it's rather pleasant to be able to hold a conversation with her when we're not about to be slaughtered by a horde of demons."

"Be that as it may, I'd prefer you to come home at the end of your conversation," she told him, which was just this side of a parental order. "Kipping on your friend's sofa isn't a habit I wish my son to develop."

"I'm kipping on the sofa as it is," he rebutted. "One is as undesirable as the other, to my way of thinking. Take care of things here, Butler?"

"I do my best," he said as he scrubbed the plates in the sink.

o o o  _END Chapter Five_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More interaction with the family. Butler mostly keeps his mouth shut, but Angeline is relentless. I absolutely had to have Holly swat him on the backside. It was terrific to be able to write that. :counts quickly: SEVEN reviews for the previous chapter - and I think we all know why :wink, wink: salarian: a round dozen to follow! Hanzo: What exactly did I earn +9 of? Haha, just curious. Soulless1: You know, I've always wanted to try my hand at a KH fic but... alas, I still haven't played KHII. It's been on my to-do list ever since it came out! And I thank you for your claims that I'm up to Eoin's standards, even if I can't agree.
> 
> In our next installment: picking things apart. Have our intrepid heroes created something beautiful, or made the worst mistake of their lives?


	6. Progression

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

Holly Short was in the process of acquiring a three-pack of toothbrushes and a few other toiletries. The mundane errand was made far more difficult than necessary because her mind was not on the task, which had been the case throughout her entire workday. Constantly, she ping-ponged between worry, elation, and sheer terror. In her defense, this was a somewhat unfamiliar scenario for her; the last significant other she'd had was a classmate from the academy, and though their relationship had gone on for much longer it had never reached a level this deep or profound. That it had happened with Artemis in such a whirlwind rush was the most terrifying part of all.

"Five sixteen," the bored-looking cashier told her.

"Great. Oh," she said in a would-be casual voice. "I also need some, um..."

"Some?"

She glanced around; the store was entirely empty. "Some  _suppressants._  How much do I owe you now?"

"Hold on a second," the gnome drawled, unable to keep a slight smirk from his features. "What kind of, er...  _suppressants_  do you need? Cough suppressants?"

"There's no need to be a jerk," she growled, face turning crimson. Of all the counter jockeys in all the convenience stores in Haven, she would get the one guy who thought this was a laughing matter. So, as one does, she began inventing wildly. "It's not that I even really need them, I... see, the other day I noticed the expiry date on mine had passed, so I threw them out. But, well, I don't want to be caught unprepared. It's a just-in-case thing."

"Just in case...  _what?_ "

Holly's jaw clenched. "Sir, I am a captain in the LEP. If I felt like it, I could be back here at the crack of dawn and reel off a nice list of citations for severe uncleanliness, sub-par security, and I'm willing to bet if we took a look at your balance books we'd find one or two 'creative' accounting sums that would merit further investig-"

"Alright, alright, don't get your bum-flap in a bunch," the gnome grumbled, reaching under the counter. "Do you need all-days, all-weeks, or fortnights?"

"The all-days are fine. Now, how much?"

Once she exited the store, Holly breathed a sigh of relief, shaking her head. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She was  _anticipating_  a repeat of last night's mistake. Because no matter how much she'd liked it – and this was a vast understatement – part of her couldn't let go of the stigmas she'd been so worked up over to begin with. Her police instincts screamed  _mistake_  at her, over and over. The fact that her heart disagreed wouldn't shut them up.

But in the event that her heart won out over her gut, she needed to know all her bases were covered.

It was just as she was turning down her street that she noticed someone keeping pace with her. She really was distracted. When she turned to confront the pursuer, she blinked, sighed, and snapped, "What are you  _doing,_  trying to sneak up on me like that?"

"Sneak?" Artemis chuckled. "You wound me. Merely engaging in a casual stroll with a close personal friend. Need I be arrested, officer?"

"You need be," she flung at him as she continued to walk toward her apartment. "By the way, how did you even know I was getting off now? I'm an hour and a half late."

"I didn't. I just reasoned that even if held over for a touch more than the usual daily grind, surely they'd have released you by this time. Our bumping into one another is entirely coincidental."

Her eyes rolled. "Sure it is. I bet you have a tracking device built into my badge by now."

"A tracking device? Me?" When she didn't reply, he nudged her with his elbow and asked, "What's in the bag?"

"Human repellant. I'm dying to try it out."

"I'll gladly be your first test subject."

Now she was trying desperately not to allow her emotions to bleed into her face as she thought about what  _was_  in the bag. "Toothbrushes, and other stuff. I have no way of knowing whether or not you'd have bought any, so I figured, 'hey, it's my place, I should step up'."

"Hmm. I confess, I forgot about the dental hygiene situation. My mind has been... elsewhere."

For an instant, she felt his hand graze her upper arm and she tensed, seconds from hyperventilating. Then, allowing himself an embarrassed chuckle, he dropped the hand. "I apologize, Captain. We are out in public, and that was the beginnings of an overly fond gesture. So many new rules..."

"Well, you'd better memorize the manual, buddy," she sighed, trying to cause herself to relax again. It wasn't working. "One whiff of what went on between us and we'd be getting some intense scrutiny everywhere we go."

"Yes, you've said."

"So none of that anymore, clear? Oh, I don't have time for this..."

"Do you... wish me to return home?"

They had just reached the outside door to the apartments that contained her own, but she stopped to stare at him, caught off guard by this offer. "What? I- I don't know, do you want to?"

"Not in the slightest," he admitted. "But you seem unduly irritated by my company. I wouldn't want to impose."

Holly liquefied like a pat of butter on a radiator, ashamed of her own attitude. "I'm sorry. You can come in for a while, I didn't mean... come in, please."

For the first time in her memory, Artemis was wearing a shy smile. Perhaps that wasn't true, but at the moment it was all she could think:  _have I ever seen him come over bashful before?_

Once inside, she made for the bathroom, where she hid the fertility suppressants and put everything else in its usual location. Satisfied that the secret nature of her shopping trip was known only to a single gnome with a lousy perspective on customer service, she returned to the living room and made for her dresser.

"Hope you don't mind if I change out of the uniform in a hurry. It's, ahh... let's just say the words 'projectile weapon' and 'goblin mucus' are involved."

Artemis couldn't resist a grin. "Rough day at the office, dear?"

Holly blinked; Artemis was already calling her  _dear_. Were all Mud Men this quick to latch on to a romantic partner? "Office? No, I walked the beat. But days like this, I'd rather be stuck in a cubicle..."

His grin turned to a grimace. "Sorry, er, hackneyed human expression. It's an overly domestic version of 'How was work?', if you will; usually something the doting wife asks the husband when he breezes in the door. A prime example of picturesque patriarchal drivel."

"I don't understand. Husband? Wife?" When Artemis gaped at her, she laughed. "Lighten up, I'm pulling your leg. And I'd have probably caught the first human reference if I wasn't so tired."

"Projectile mucus, I understand; sounds harrowing." But then she was off to the shower. "Do you always shower twice a day?"

"Yep," she called out. "In the morning it perks me up, and at the end of the day... well, I usually smell like I need one. Why?"

"Just wondered. Seems like you'd be using quite a lot of hot water."

"Remember, our water isn't exactly wasted; it's all recycled. And it's hot to begin with; cold water is more of a luxury when you're this close to the magma."

"Of course," he said knowingly. "Hadn't thought of that."

"Hadn't thought of it?  _You?_ " When he laughed, she laughed with him. "So we've established that my day was terrible. Yours?"

"Oh, the usual efforts to save the world from annihilation, and a luncheon with our mutual acquaintance, Mulch. Word on the street is there's an abundance of contraband on its way to your fair city."

"We know, don't worry about it; Newt's on the case. Some of it always slips through the cracks, but this time we have an inside man."

"Mulch will be devastated to hear that. He and Doodah Day were hoping for an extended meal ticket."

He could hear her snort as she turned off the water;  _That was fast,_ Artemis thought. "Poor guy. The LEP has been running a lot more smoothly of late, which means less business for PIs. I can't help it, really; what am I supposed to do, start bungling cases so he can rake in the cash?"

"Though he'd appreciate that, I'm wagering your answer to this visionary stratagem would have to be 'no'?"

"You wager right." When she stepped out into the main quarters, Artemis smiled when he saw her in the simple gray jogging suit she'd mentioned the night previous. "What?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

"You think I look like a slob."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "In what way did I insinuate this?"

"You tried not to laugh when you saw me," she accused, jabbing a finger into his chest; no mean feat for the one-metre-tall elf. "Just because I'm not wearing a six-piece suit like you-"

"Two-piece; I abhor waistcoats."

" _Too many_ piece," she amended, causing his lips to purse. "You looked a lot cuter when you showed up in that cotton-comprised getup."

Artemis grinned at her, and only then did she realize that she'd yanked her mouth open and stuck her foot right in; should she be calling him  _cute?_ "Why, thank you, Miss Short. And I assure you that tonight's casual wear is not in the slightest sense unflattering on your frame."

Heart still fluttering, she rolled her eyes to cover her nervousness. "You can't just say 'I dig it' like someone with a standard-issue vocabulary, can you?"

" _Nope._ How's that for standard-issue?"

"It's a work in progress." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're not just trying to plot the quickest way to get me out of these gym togs?"

When he let out a laugh that quickly turned into a cough, she glimpsed for the first time that he was as nervous as she. What was she to do now? The boy was so young – they shouldn't even be considering such matters together. But on the other hand, if they were going to, she had to remember that he was even more inexperienced than she was.

"That was pretty crass of me," she whispered, reaching out and taking his hand. "I let my mouth run off ahead of my brain."

"No need to apologize, Holly. Such banter is part of being one half of a coupling. Soon enough, I shall need to grow accustomed to it."

"Are you sure you want this, anyway?" she asked with such openness that he met her eyes. "Are you ready for it? All of it?"

"I believe I am."

"Strong answer," she mocked.

"I know," he told her, dropping all pretense and shields. "Truth is, I'm a jumble of several emotions that I wasn't even aware were in the lexicon. I have stared down demons and bested  _mafiya_ henchmen, but a simple innuendo and I become a gibbering buffoon. Who's to say there will ever come a point in time where such things leave me unaffected?"

"If you want me to, I can clean up my mouth," she said with an encouraging smile. "Or we could scrap this whole thing and go back to being friends."

"That isn't what I want. Not remotely."

"No, I'm sure it isn't, but I wanted you to know you have that power. Remember it, okay? You  _can_  pull the plug; don't feel trapped, like you're driving down a one-way street with no turns. It takes two to tango; if both of us aren't totally on board-  _hey!"_

To her shock and dismay, he picked her up bodily from the floor and placed her on the seat of the chair, standing. She was milliseconds from growling that she didn't appreciate him lording his extra height over her when he kissed her, and she forgot what she was going to say.

"Just wanted you closer to eye level," he breathed into her chin. "For this."

"Artemis," she began hesitantly, placing a hand on his lips – which was almost as bad as kissing him, she found. "Um... D'Arvit, every time I convince myself that it's going to be okay, all the hang-ups float back into my mind. Small stuff like this height difference... bigger stuff."

"Like our genetic makeup, and our ages."

"Yes, please voice it aloud," she whimpered. "That makes it feel a whole lot better. Even without the issue of your being a human, I... gods, when I'm with you I feel so young, but when I'm not, when I'm alone with my thoughts, I feel...  _old._ Because I am, I'm so much older that it's depraved. Those amber sparks could kick in for good anytime now. How can you want this?"

"It isn't as if I don't think about such things, as well," he reassured her. "And every time I do, I can't help reaching the inevitable conclusion that they're largely... academic. Next to how much undiluted pleasure we can grant each other, age and species are inconsequential."

"Not everybody can graph it out in concrete logic like you can," she breathed as his hands passed over her back. "Some of us... Artemis, what if we ruin ourselves? What if we break up, and we can never look each other in the eye? What if we  _don't_  break up, and get driven apart by circumstances beyond our control, and we spend our whole lives missing what we lost?"

"Well, to quote Tennyson, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'. Previously, I'd thought this to be sentimental bilge, but it's become very clear that it is anything but."

"So you'd rather risk it all?" she asked, heart pounding. Part of her was still dismayed at what they were doing, but being so close to him was drowning her good sense, filling her with so much desire that she was having a hard time speaking, or even breathing. "You'd... take that kind of chance on us? What kind of prize am I, anyway? Some elf cop who can't even check her emotions at the door."

"You aren't a prize. If you were, I could win you or steal you – and steal you I would. No, you're more like... a  _gift_. A most precious gift. If I were to receive you for Christmas, I imagine I'd be set for the next thousand Christmases."

He had her at "gift". Nobody had ever said something so sweet to her in all her decades of life, and she doubted they would for decades to come. Ten minutes later, Holly made a mad dash for her medicine cabinet as Artemis fumbled with the light switch, and darkness welcomed them in for the second time in as many nights.

o o o

Artemis retained a lot more specific memories from their second evening together. The first time he'd been half-crazed, only hoping he wouldn't do everything wrong and mar an otherwise perfect event. This time, having a better understanding of the way things worked, he felt able to relax (in a manner of speaking) and more fully experience it. Holly seemed appreciative.

Afterward, they lay there on her futon, sheathed in sweat and unable to stop laughing from pure joy. The scent of her filled him up, every inch of her nut-brown skin electrifying his own where they came in contact. He would have traded all his net worth to be here at this second with her.

"I'm sure this will sound infantile to you, but... I can't help but feel I'm lax in my duties for not using a... well, I'm not sure you'd-"

"Are we talking about one of those silly balloons you humans feel the need to wrap yourselves in?"

He felt a tinge of shame. "How did you guess?"

"We do study your kind quite closely," she sighed into his chest. "And don't worry, our methods of contraception are top of the line. There won't be any 'accidents' as long as I remember to pop one – even if I take it right after instead of before, it will still do the job."

"The ECP is a relatively recent development within our society. How long have you had it?"

"Ages," she said sleepily. "Maybe a century?"

He whistled appreciatively. "Impressive."

"Not that it's encouraged," she told him sadly. "We have such a low birthing rate that it's almost seen as a crime against fairykind to use it. But obviously there's still a demand; pixies and sprites want to get together and satisfy their curiosity, but nobody wants a pixie-sprite kid. No brains, no wings, and still pitifully small. The worst of both worlds in every birth. Even their magic suffers."

"So there's never been a pixie-sized hybrid with wings and a towering intellect?"

"Not a one."

"Hmm."

"I hope you don't think I'm being prejudiced again," she whispered, poking him in the stomach with a gentle finger. "There are lots of couples from different fairy families, but... they generally don't procreate since the results are too depressing. Not together, anyway; surrogates are used. Occasionally elves and pixies will have children, though, they're so similar to begin with."

Artemis thought about that for several minutes. Holly had just begun to breathe more deeply and slowly when he asked, "So... if we had a child... do you think it would be one metre tall with pointed ears, but no magic? The worst of both worlds?"

"Probably," she said with a wide yawn. "Though I guess if that were the gist of it, the kid wouldn't be so bad off genetically. Just an outcast. Why? You want to try for a few?"

"Thank you, but no," he laughed sheepishly. "Just for future reference, in case someday... never mind. I'm trying to cross bridges I haven't even spotted on the horizon yet."

Her knee dipped between his legs as she rolled slightly to get a look at his face in the false moonlight from her false window. "Don't be mad, but you're kind of scaring me with the way you're talking. We've only had this... whatever it is, for two days and you're making plans. How serious are you?"

"Abundantly. Holly, this isn't some casual diversion for me. Forgive me for sounding like an utter sap, but I think we have something. The elusive  _it_  that some men and women spend entire lifetimes seeking without fruition. I'd have to be an imbecile to allow that to pass me by."

Holly's lip quivered. "Again, scaring me."

"Don't be scared," he breathed, kissing her forehead. "I'll protect you."

That was enough to get her smiling again. "That's a laugh. Between you and me, who do you think is protecting whom?"

"Point well made, Captain; I am the innocent bystander."

"Bystander, maybe," she snickered. "Innocent? Not once since you were born. I bet you were even plotting schemes of world domination in your baby bed."

"I'm plotting a few in  _your_  bed," he rumbled, and she shoved his face away, laughing. "But I'm afraid I must take my leave."

"You're going?" she gasped, heartbroken. "But... but last night, when we... that was the most content I've felt in my own room in years."

"You have no idea. Or maybe you do," he said with a warm smile. "But alas, Mother worries."

"Right." Ceding defeat, she sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I did mean to ask you how it went with the Fowl clan."

Artemis stood and began dressing at a leisurely pace. "Butler is woefully apprised of the situation, as his occupation requires he be. Mother suspects, but nothing more, which is as much as I could have hoped for."

"Nobody I work with suspects," she said with a nod. "Though I think the bottom-feeder at the Stop And Spend would get the hint if we walked in there together."

"To pass off the tall tale that we chatted ourselves into exhaustion twice in a row would be pushing it," he said with genuine remorse. "So tonight, I sleep across town. Alone."

"My bed will miss you," she said throatily, and his hands slipped off his tie. "And your slapstick routine. Do I really just have to say something lewd to get a rise out of you?"

Artemis shook his head in her direction. "You do, my lovely leprechaun. And I'm sure you'll use that to great advantage in the near future."

While he used one of Holly's room deodorizers to mask any scents that might send up alarm bells, her hand was roaming the nearby floor for her shirt. Once she found it, she began wriggling into it as she said, "You'd better believe it. Oh, I hate that you have to go, Artemis. Part of me hates that I hate that, but the rest of me..."

"The independent first female Recon officer becoming more... dependent?"

"Not on your life," she blustered out of habit, then softened. "Maybe a little, I dunno. But when you're here, and we're like this, it's as if all the stress and tension of the day vaporizes. We can just be us."

"If it helps, you may want to check the linens. I'm fairly certain that I'm leaving my heart behind with you."

With that she stood and approached him, laughing. He tried not to look at her legs for too long a period, lest he be swayed back for another go. "What a line. But not a bad one."

Their last kiss of the night was actually three kisses, and each one stretched on for minutes. It began when she reached up and tugged on his tie, pulling him down to her level so she could manhandle him for a few seconds before he escaped her clutches. No one could have made him believe that having her fingers running through his hair would be nearly as thrilling as the kiss itself, or any of the other actions they tested out earlier. At last, when he could feel the beginnings of need taking over him anew, he broke free of her and gasped for breath.

"Now or not at all," he half-laughed, half-panted, patting down his own hair. "My self-control deteriorates exponentially."

"Admit it, Arty," she said with an impish grin – which isn't to say she looked like an imp in the slightest. "I've got you wrapped around my little finger."

"Which one is that? Because from my perspective-"

"Oh, you are  _not_ about to make short jokes!" she said with a mock-scandalized hand to her chest. "How dare you!"

"What manner of beast would do so, Captain  _Short?_ "

 _"OOOH!"_ she grunted, pushing him toward the door. "That's it, I'm kicking you out, Fowl! Hit the bricks!"

His face was the picture of innocence. "But baby-cakes, I was only trying to-"

"OUT!"

But once she had maneuvered him into the hallway, it stayed open a crack just long enough for him to hear her giggle and see the single eye in the gap wink at him. He waved, and then it shut the rest of the way.

 _My head is swimming,_  he thought to himself as he stumbled home in a near-daze.  _She takes my considerable intellect and reduces it to jelly. I am at her mercy... and I don't even mind the loss of situational control. Would Dr. Argon consider this to be a breakthrough?_

Both Butler and Angeline Fowl attempted to hound him with questions when he walked in, but he passed himself off as being worn out from an hours-long screaming match between he and his friend and sent himself straight to bed. This was at least partially true – there had been screaming involved.

o o o  _END Chapter Six_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you may have noticed, I'm lowering my rating to "T". After taking a gander at the racier works of Kitsune Heart (which bring large amounts of heat to my face; btw, you're welcome to a foot massage from me anytime since it's my fault! I feel this to be a necessity in life, anyway.) and following the advice of Gatorade88, I'm positive that I'm not breaking any rules in doing so, and I certainly don't want to mislead people into thinking there's going to be explicitness that never shows up. But if you disagree please PM me!


	7. Contemplation

**J. ARGON CLINIC, HAVEN CITY; FOUR DAYS LATER**

"So is today the day, Artemis?"

The young genius cast a sidelong glance from his position on the couch. "The day of what? Day of the Dead? Day of reckoning? Day that the Lord has made, thus we shall rejoice and be glad in it?"

"You're redirecting; it's a defense mechanism." The gnome shifted position on his chair, grunting; still his hip bothered him, even with the acupuncture. "We've discussed the marked change in your demeanor several times, somehow always managing to dance around the reason behind it. Any insight?"

"Maybe I'm just, what is the expression... 'high on life'. Conceivable?"

"Not this suddenly. Would you mind terribly if I venture an opinion?"

"Please, Doctor."

Argon tossed a pen that had run out of ink into the recycle bin and produced another one, pressing it to his pad. "The thousand-yard stares and rosy cheeks are foremost symptoms of a deadly, contagious disease. Among my graduating class, we called it, 'The Curse of Aphrodite'."

Artemis's brow furrowed. "Surely you jest. It's... you aren't of the opinion that I've contracted this, are you?"

"I am. Though perhaps, if I use the more common counterpart of 'Spring Fever', you will begin to cotton on."

Now his brow was no longer furrowed, and he sat back, arms folded. "Hilarious, my good man. You really ought to write a book."

"I've written several, but that is not the issue at hand. Tell me... who might the lucky lady be?"

"Please," he scoffed. "I am Artemis Fowl the Second, a god among men – and the odd fairy or two. What use would I have for a paramour?"

"You tell me. And if you don't, I won't sign off on your mental health form."

Artemis glared icy daggers of doom at his opponent. "Dare you, really? I pray you understand that I can have your license revoked with but a few bored clicks of my mouse. How did you put it? I am a 'resourceful young lad'."

"Arrange to have me discredited if you must," the not-so-easily-intimidated doctor said with a bark of laughter. "But you and I will both continue to understand what you're hiding. Go on."

Two minutes ticked by, the air stale and charged with unease. Then, at last, Artemis muttered, "Are you recording this session for use in your book?"

"Obviously."

"Then turn it off. And put down your pad of paper. Otherwise, I'll start ranting about fours and noble steeds, and you'll be seen as the laughingstock who  _couldn't_  cure Atlantis Complex in a Mud Man."

The gnome frowned, but did as he was asked; fame hound he may be, but when it came down to it, the patient had to come first. "Very well. No tapes, no pencils. Just talking."

"Verify to me once and for all that fairy therapist-patient confidentiality laws will extend to human subjects."

"It's the law, all right; says nothing about which species are and aren't covered, which means all of them are. This is all between you, me, and the oak paneling."

If he were really honest with himself, Artemis knew he was dying to talk to someone about this who would merely listen without winking and grinning, or shouting him down. But only now that he was guaranteed the news would go no further was he willing to open up.

"For the sake of argument," he said, laying down a paper-thin safety net, "let's just  _entertain the notion_  that I've become... fond of someone."

"Mm-hmm, I see."

"And, as long as we're playing our little game... let's say this someone is of the... fairy persuasion."

"Ohhh." The man's hand strayed toward his pencil, but Artemis's eyes were slits of rage leveled in his direction. His hand dropped away. "Sorry, my boy, force of habit. You were saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything about myself. We're dealing in the realm of hypothesis. Understood?"

"Yes, perfectly; it's a common catharsis for patients who feel especially threatened by or unsure about their actions."

"Hmm, I feel myself opening up so much more now that you've said so."

"We've talked about the sarcasm," he said wearily, rubbing his temples. "It has no place on the couch of healing."

"I apologize." After a few moments, Artemis cleared his throat. "Therefore, imagine if you will that this fairy friend of mine that may or may not exist... reciprocates."

"She feels as you do?"

"I believe so. However, because of the racial tensions between my people and The People, both she and I worry. Though it should not be the case, there are outside factors to consider."

"And what do you think of these outside factors, when compared with the object of your affections?"

"I think they're off the point. Who cares what the masses think?"

"I see." Glancing down at his lap, Jerbal Argon was mildly embarrassed to find he was writing this down on thin air, and forced his hands to keep still. "Except that, despite your insistence, you  _do_ care."

"No," Artemis said, a slight edge to his voice. "She does, to a degree, but... I only care if it gets in the way of my happiness."

"That is a dangerous line to walk, young man. It is important to understand that outside forces shouldn't be given power over your tranquility, but bear in mind not everything that 'gets in your way' has condemned itself to death. Just a reminder."

"You needn't remind," he gusted as he placed his hands behind his head. "I remember the countless times you've said as much."

"Let's return to the subject at hand, then. You and this... illusory fairy female. You have developed feelings for each other. Have you acted upon them in any way?"

"To a nauseating degree."

"Interesting choice of words, there. Why is it nauseating?"

Artemis frowned at the man. "By 'nauseating', I only mean that the growth of these feelings reached a staggeringly large scale in a miniscule amount of time. The term 'whirlwind romance' would be apt if it weren't so cliché."

"Clichés are clichés for a reason, you know; because they occur often."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Alright. Now's the point at which I give you a gold coin's worth of free advice, youngster."

"Free? Hardly. I'm paying you through the nose."

"No, this is above and beyond what I'm being paid for. My advice is to end this relationship now, in its infancy."

Such a blunt notion startled Artemis far more than anything else the doctor had done – and that had included an order to perform a colonoscopy.  _"Excuse_  me?"

"Yes," he sighed, making it quite apparent he loathed what he was saying as much as Artemis did. "I know, Master Fowl, I know. My usual guidelines would have me encouraging such a connection wholeheartedly – although I would be cautioning you to drop the pace down a few notches, take it slow."

"But instead, you're commanding me to be miserable."

Dr. Argon shook his head. "Not a command; I won't force you to do any such thing against your will. As I've said, it's  _advice,_  not a prescription or a signed medical order to be carried out."

"Advice, eh? Alright. Why, pray tell, would you  _suggest_  I make myself miserable?"

"Because it's never going to work out, lad. Not between a human and a fairy. Racial tensions are quite the juggernaut to overcome; they will press in on you from all sides where you least expect them. And the saddest bit is, in the end, the couple usually becomes divided by that very thing. Though they set out to have their romance flourish in the face of adversity, the adversity triumphs, and they both finish out the tale in a far worse state than when they began. Pull the plug before it gets to that point and you'll save yourselves a barrelful of grief."

Artemis stood. "Well, thank you for your time, Doctor. I find myself quite refreshed by our session today. Sunshine and rainbows."

"Artemis," the man sighed. "You know I have a point. An unwelcome point, perhaps. And I've seen it a hundred times, and I know you're not going to listen to me, anyway. Tell me something: do you love her?"

The question gave him pause. He hadn't really thought of it in terms of "love" yet, even though he knew that's what it was building to. Just then, for whatever reason, a vision of Holly flying through the air with a battered and beaten Artemis in her arms came to him so strongly that he was nearly rocked to his knees. Finally, he settled on, "With every subatomic particle of my being."

"Then enjoy it while it lasts. My opinion remains what it was, but on the other hand... it may be far more debilitating for you to eschew the experience before you've lived it. So go forth and love. Bear this one thing in mind, though."

"Hmm?"

The gnome fixed the human with such a steely gaze that it actually caused Artemis to flinch. "Your... 'imaginary friend' is a good soldier, and a pillar of our community. If that poor elf ends up hurting because of this, you won't just be doing yourself a disservice. She and all of Haven will suffer."

Artemis smiled when he realized that Dr. Argon had known precisely who he was talking about all along. "Very well, then. Checkmate. I'll make sure that if we come to an impasse, I'll be the one who suffers most."

Argon grunted. "Messiah Complex. I told you to watch yourself, there."

"I'm trying. But on the other hand... a few dashes of altruism would probably offset my former avaricious ways, wouldn't they?"

"Maybe so. But for today, our time is up."

o o o

Holly Short was on cloud nine. Despite her reservations about entering a more adult relationship with a human, there had been no life-threatening backlash, no strange diseases reintroduced into either populace from the other. One week in and the status was still green. Maybe it was a mistake, but she was beginning to believe that they might walk away from it unscathed... and possibly having excavated that mythical relic called  _true love._  Not certainly, but possibly. And she was hanging all her hopes on that.

 _I'm in love with a Mud Boy,_  she thought, giggling to herself. It was so absurd that it could have been a plot for a television sitcom. But so what? She hadn't felt this happy since... well, she may never have been happy like this in all her days. Even when she'd been with Arbles back at the academy, it had been fraught with petty bickering and feelings being stepped on. This was so...  _easy._  So little effort was involved – not in a way that meant they were only paired up out of convenience, but that they fit together so well that there was no friction when trying to force the pieces together. They just  _clicked._  It was the healing balm her fractured old soul had been craving.

"Lady!"

"What?" she snapped, having been unkindly yanked out of her pink-tinted cloud and sent crashing back to the tunnels of Haven.

"Are you gonna pay me, or just titter like a teenaged sprite?"

Holly looked down to find herself holding a rapidly-warming nettle smoothie. How did that get there? When she glanced back up, she saw the vendor who had sold it to her scowling, patchy eyebrows hiked. Her peripheral vision informed her that a long line of customers was wondering at the cause of the holdup.

"Sorry," she muttered as she tossed him a coin, completely mortified. "Thank you, sir, have a nice day."

"Hmph!"

This was the only downside to her newfound gaiety: her mind tended to wander off at the most inopportune moments. Granted, this was her first real encounter with what the humans affectionately dubbed "puppy love", as she'd never been anywhere near this smitten with any schoolmates or coworkers; the closest approximation had been one of her former instructors, and that was closer to hero worship than actual longing. Still, did it have to come on so strong?

"Hey, Grub," she called out as she sucked greedily at the straw;  _extra nutmeg today, not bad._  "You're off the clock now, I'm finishing up this shift."

"About time," Corporal Grub Kelp sighed, tensed shoulders slumping. He was a good officer, really, he was just... whiny. And a tiny bit spoiled, since his big brother was now commander of the entire LEP. "My legs ache. I think it's these shoes. I'm going to file a complaint."

 _Of course you are,_  she thought, deciding to keep the comment to herself instead of drawing out the conversation any longer than necessary. "Yep. I got my smoothie, so I'll be good until the end of-"

"And I've noticed a shooting pain in my lower back," he went on as if she hadn't spoken. "I've heard back pain and posture have a lot to do with your shoes. If I end up needing a chiropractor, I'm definitely billing them for the visit."

"Definitely. Well, it's been nice-"

"Foaly should know, shouldn't he? That his shoes need to be redesigned. Maybe I'll radio him and mention-"

"If you're in so much agony, maybe it's time to go home, eh, Corporal?"

The young officer blinked. "Uhh... yeah, I guess that would make sense. A hot bath sounds awesome. I'll just submit my complaint before my next shift."

"You do that."

An hour passed by in relative silence as Holly stood guard along a busy corner on the Boulevard of Kings, sipping at her smoothie until long after it was gone out of boredom. Often her thoughts wandered to Artemis, but she made a concentrated effort not to allow these to overpower her vigilance; she was on the clock. There would be plenty of time to lose herself in thoughts of her nights with the reformed mastermind.

But she couldn't cut them out entirely. Every night that week, they had been together – save two nights ago, when they had taken a strategic break to hopefully give more weight to their claims that they were nothing more than friends. It was strange for mere buddies to hang out every single night, wasn't it? Holly honestly didn't know if this was true, as she'd never had buddies – just coworkers and associates.

The sad realization hit her that Artemis was her first friend. She had thrown herself so deeply into her work upon graduation that she didn't have time to form lasting bonds with anyone who wasn't somehow connected to her job. Perhaps Mulch or No1 could be considered friends, but she had co-founded the PI offices with Mulch, and she saw No1 on very rare occasion. It was true that she'd only met Artemis in the line of duty, but since then...

It was oddly wonderful to dwell on how things had developed. First, Artemis spirited her away to exchange for fairy gold – an ugly fact that somehow became funnier with time instead of consternating. Even then, at his lowest point of villainy, he had never intended to harm her. After that, the rocky, mutually beneficial understanding; couldn't hurt to form contacts outside one's normal associates. When his mind had been wiped following the Spiro debacle, they had only just begun weaving the meager strands that promised more, which were then summarily cut. Yet somehow, even without knowing her anymore, being thrown into Opal's zany plot of revenge caused the strands to flourish. Nobody can survive stampeding, over-amorous trolls together and come away without at least  _kind of_ appreciating each other.

From that day forward – once his memories were back where they belonged – it had been so different, in a way that caused Holly more cheer than she would ever admit. They'd called often, sometimes for business, but now and then just to catch up. Being maligned by him to save his mother was a setback, but in hindsight she knew it wasn't likely she would ever cut him out of her life over that. The grudge she tried so hard to maintain would flicker and peter out any time Artemis was in danger or otherwise needed her. Because she needed him, too.

"What are you and that Mud Man up to, anyway?"

Holly's jaw slackened, and she at last focused on the scruffy-looking elf standing in front of her. "Come again?"

"The Mud Man," he repeated, scratching at his chin. "You and he are up to something."

Suddenly, her face was growing warmer. Who was this guy? How did he know anything? Was her secret about to be blown wide open by a total stranger? "Uhh... Sir, are you sure you're talking to the right person?"

"He's always coming over to our complex. Sometimes in the dead of night. You're not helping him take over Haven or anything like that, are you?"

For a few seconds, Holly blinked at him. Finally, recognition dawned on her features as she gasped, "Oh, right – sorry, Reed, I'm not used to seeing you without your beard."

Reed frowned. "We live in the same building for twenty years, and all you remember is the beard. Makes an elf feel noticed."

"I said I was sorry," she grumbled. "Anyway, you were saying about a Mud Man?"

"What's he doing skulking around the building day and night?" the man pressed, pouchy eyes squinting at her.

"What's he- why? Is that a crime?"

"Most certainly oughtta be. Shouldn't have to tell an officer like you what they did to the People, but maybe you could use a refresher course. I hear part one of  _The Hill of Tailke_  is on TV already."

Now her own eyes narrowed at the argumentative neighbor. "I'm fully aware. But you've got Artemis all wrong, he's... quite different from the rest of his kind. A good human."

"There ain't no such thing. All Mud Men are aggressive, selfish, wasteful creatures, and they always will be. I don't care how nice Arty-whatsis is to you, he'll turn out to be exactly the same way, mark my words."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she sighed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Reed, I have a job to do – like catching that pickpocket."

Luckily for her, this was no excuse; she actually had just spotted a sprite doing a gnome a favor by relieving him of that heavy wallet in his trousers. It was yet another feather in Captain Short's cap, as an investigation would later turn up several gold bars' worth of stolen merchandise in his hidey-hole.

o o o

"Arty, what is this?"

Sighing, Artemis heaved himself out of the cramped chair and approached the area where his mother was sorting the laundry that had just been delivered. It seemed all clothes were sent out in Haven, as one central laundromat company handled the entire city's washing. This most likely saved hundreds on energy costs, and also economized space.

"What is what, Mother?" But he found he needed no answer to his own question. Staring him in the face were what could only be the bottom half of a woman's undergarment set. Anyone with a brain mass greater than or equal to that of a chimpanzee could have told they were far too small to belong to an adult – an adult  _human,_ at any rate. Unless she were an anorexic supermodel.

"Care to explain?"

Artemis gulped. Intelligently, he knew this ran a high risk of giving him away instantaneously, but he hoped he could later pass off this involuntary reaction as something else. "Er, I... where did those come from?"

 _Holly,_  he couldn't stop himself from thinking.  _Unmistakably; she was wearing them a few nights ago._

"Not from me," she snapped, holding them across her hips; they came up abysmally lacking in width. Apart from this, Artemis cringed at seeing his mother displaying anyone's bloomers against the backdrop of her pelvis; was she trying to give him a  _third_  complex? "So I think you'll stop pussyfooting around the issue now and answer, right?"

"I really couldn't begin to imagine," he said in a shaky voice. "But please stop waving them around in front of your adolescent son, will you? It's, ah... unsettling."

"These are those pixie's pants, aren't they?" she accused. "Oh, I knew something like this was going on, but a mother turns a blind eye, doesn't she?"

 _"Elf,"_ he corrected her with some irritation. Focusing on that, he suppressed his unease at having his significant other's dirty (or clean?) laundry paraded in front of his face and continued in bland tones, "And I believe you're working yourself up into a frenzy over nothing. Surely you must have realized by now the more likely scenario: the laundromat mixed up our order with someone else's. I can only imagine their surprise when some fairy matriarch withdraws a pair of Butler's boxer shorts from the bundle."

"Here's hoping all mine are present and accounted for," Butler said from the stove, where he was attempting to make crepes from the simulated egg mixture sold in Haven grocers.

"Very well," she sighed, tossing them down on the futon as she ran her other hand over her forehead. "Let's assume I believe you, for now. Can we make a guarantee that I'll never come across this again?"

"That depends on the frequency with which the launderers foul their orders up."

And it really did – for Artemis was bound and determined that he would never somehow wind up with any of Holly's delicates in his possession again. Not that he could fathom how it had happened this time.

While he was about it... "I'll just dispose of these now."

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, alarmed when she noticed he was headed for the recycling room. "I don't even want to entertain notions of why you're taking them into the lavatory!"

"The toilet  _recycles,_ " he told her simply. "Not just bio waste, but everything you put down it that isn't at least semi-sentient. Unless you really want to go through the tiresome ordeal of returning them?"

His mother threw up her hands, sorting the laundry with the added energy of ill-expressed frustration.

Of course, once he had closed the door behind him, he slipped them into his pocket and tossed a few scraps of toilet paper down the commode. This spurred the inner mechanisms into action to produce the telltale low hum that would inform his companions that, for all intents and purposes, he had done as he'd indicated he would. He'd never outright promised he was trashing them, had he? Therefore, no lies, no guilty conscience.

So went the theory. To be more forthright, Artemis found himself actually wanting to tell his mother all about his partnership with the good Captain – everything but the details best left unsaid, of course. Sadly, his lips were sealed; no one could know. It was simply too risky.

o o o

"Your mother found  _what?_ "

'"Shh," Artemis warned as Holly let them into her building. "Voice down, remember?"

"Right," she chided herself, takeout bag swinging from her wrist as she held the door open for him. "Sorry, that's just kind of... ye  _gods,_  I can't believe they somehow ended up with you!"

"I've smoothed things over with her, don't worry; fed her some flimsy story that the laundromat cocked up the handling of our things."

"And that's all it is, a story," she grumbled as she thumbed the keypad for her door. "Lushmore Laundry has only misplaced or mixed up an order three or four times in the past four hundred years; they're pretty reputable."

Artemis nodded his appreciation. "Most human companies would kill for that kind of service record, I'm s... eh?"

Holly looked up and followed his line of sight to witness a scrawny elf holding open his door, glaring at them. Holly, of course, knew it was Reed, but Artemis didn't.

"Lovely day," Artemis remarked. Instantly, the door was being slammed. "Hmm, touchy."

"Forget him," she told him spitefully as she pushed her way into her apartment. "He's just an old grump. Come on."

After Holly was reunited with her long-lost apparel, they enjoyed a lovely meal from one of the many restaurants that Artemis no longer cared to approach in person, made possible by Holly picking up an order for two all by her lonesome. It surprised him that she had taken his palate into consideration and ordered him a seafood dish, even though she was strictly Vegan. However, after the first bite earned him a shudder, he put the box down and slid it to the far side of her table.

"What's wrong? They usually do such a good job at Plank's."

"I won't eat anything that causes you to feel queasy during your own meal."

"Don't do that," she said gently, pushing the box back toward him. "Okay, sure, it grosses me out, but... you're a meat-eater by nature, I'm not going to ask you to give it up all of a sudden."

"My Mud Man nature made me do it, eh?"

Holly frowned at him. "Don't put words in my mouth. There are plenty of elves who still eat meat; they just usually beat themselves up about it later. And from what I hear, there are a fair few humans who abstain. I meant  _your_  nature. As an individual."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm very sure."

True to her word, Holly didn't wince again all the way through the meal. Despite her kind deference, Artemis's fish sat uneasily on the bottom of his stomach. How could he fully enjoy the food knowing it made her heartsick to watch it being eaten? At least the small cakes were entirely free of animal byproducts, so they could both gnaw their way through a half-dozen each with no pang of remorse.

"Please don't order meat for me again," Artemis said with a sigh as he drained his glass of sim-wine; he didn't fret about drinking it at his young age, as it was entirely non-alcoholic. "Yes, I do partake of it, but I'm also quite fond of several vegetarian dishes. I must say, that ratatouille of yours was exquisite; perhaps that next time."

"Come on," she sighed, running a hand through her truncated hair. "Don't be like this, I'm fine with it. I don't want you to change for me."

"It's not a change," he insisted. "It's being considerate. If your favorite dish was, say, bald eagle, I'd like to think you wouldn't eat it in front of me, as I'd be unhappy watching a formerly-threatened species masticated."

Holly blinked. "You think I'd do  _what_ to it?"

"Chewed."

"Oh... I thought you said something else." Another sigh. "Okay, if you're sure about that. What if we end up living together? Are you going to give up meat permanently just to make me feel more comfortable?"

"I would. But then again, I'd probably sneak it when you weren't looking."

That prompted a tiny smirk. "A closet carnivore. Sounds about right."

An hour later found them in her bed. This night, they had chosen to do nothing more than enjoy being in each other's arms, and Artemis felt no sense of disappointment; he required little more than that.

"Wouldn't it be nice?" he said out of nowhere.

"Hmm?"

"To be living together. It sounds like a wondrous dream."

"It does," she agreed, nuzzling into him. "Some cozy cottage on the beach."

"We could sip Mai Tais and watch the sunset every evening."

"Mmm," she cooed. "Let's shoot for that. Now we just have to find an island where nobody would look down on our forbidden union."

"I'm sure I could purchase one. Then we'd have it all to ourselves."

Holly snorted, rubbing her hand along the length of his neatly-pressed shirt. "Throw your money around a little more and you'll be buying the ocean around the island, so nobody can interrupt your perfect view with their pesky boats."

"Capital idea, Holly. It's already in my mental itinerary."

"You," she laughed, poking him. This quickly escalated into an epic poke-war, which gave way to a tickling skirmish, followed by a few passionate moments. An hour after this found Artemis walking home, his cheeks red and his heart soaring on gossamer wings.

o o o  _END Chapter Seven_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not one to toot my own horn (or only rarely), but in editing this chapter I reread Mrs. Fowl's line about him taking the panties into the bathroom and cracked up. I'd entirely forgotten that! More cute moments and moondreams... sadly, less of that to be enjoyed in the coming chapters. And much thanks for this newest batch of reviews...


	8. Repercussions

**POLICE PLAZA, HAVEN CITY; TWO DAYS LATER**

Holly Short was sitting in Trouble Kelp's office impatiently. It wasn't like him to keep her waiting when there was pressing business to tend; she was usually the one late to meetings. If he didn't show soon, she had half a mind to go about her duties as usual and wait for him to find time to yank her in there when he wasn't so preoccupied.

"Ah, already here, I see," he said gruffly as he closed the door behind him. "Good. Saves me the effort of shouting down the hall."

"What's this about, Trubs?" she sighed, hoping to cut to the chase. "I'm due in at Fifth and Imp in ten."

"That's  _Commander Kelp_  while we're on duty," he reminded her as he took his seat. He automatically picked up a stylus and started tapping the desktop with it. After a few more seconds of this, Holly couldn't help herself.

"Did you ask me in here to watch you play with a pen?"

"Short, I've had about enough of your lip. Considering what I'm about to question you about, I expect a bit more respect for my position. You wanna be busted back down to Traffic?"

"Question me? Oh, great. What did I do now?"

"You tell me."

Holly's eye twitched. "Do we have a Future Crime Division I don't know about? If so, then I expect to be questioned about your upcoming strangulation."

"Fine, fine, play dumb." He picked up a data pad and scrutinized at it, as if he didn't already know what was being displayed there. "I have received a report from a concerned citizen that you may be... spending too much time in the company of a certain Mud Man."

"Really?" she said, unimpressed.

Trouble Kelp's eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch. "Really. Says he sees this Mud Man, whose description bears an uncanny resemblance to one Artemis Fowl, frequenting your dwelling at all hours. Care to enlighten me, Short?"

It was everything she could do to keep her face from reddening, but somehow she managed it; Kelp was a seasoned officer and would pick up on any physical cues. "I'd like to see the name of this 'concerned citizen', if that's all right."

"It is not; he wished to remain anonymous."

"Very well, Sir. Yes, Artemis has been by my place a few times. What about it?"

Trouble looked like he'd swallowed something bitter. "Come on, Captain. You're having him by your place? Sounds like a conflict of interest."

"Interest in what? Conflicting with what? No amount of busybody neighbors are going to make me sever all ties with my friend."

"Yes, well, your  _friend_  has caused us no small number of headaches over the years. Or are you forgetting the staggering sum of fairy gold he weaseled out of our hostage fund – by kidnapping  _you_ , no less?"

"That gold is now rightfully his, by our own laws," she said firmly. "Finders, keepers; he beat us fair and square. And yes, he's made a few mistakes-"

_"AHEM."_

"He's made  _a great many_  mistakes," she corrected. "Dozens of them. But if I could kindly turn your attention to how instrumental his help has been in the thwarting of, let's see... Briar Cudgeon, Opal Koboi, Opal Koboi  _again_ , Turnball Root..."

"Yes, yes, we're well aware of his attempts to ingratiate himself with the Council. It doesn't mean he can be trusted. He's a certified nutjob."

"He's a person with an  _illness,_ " she snapped at him, up to her armpits in a bad mood already. Zero to furious in sixty seconds; must be some kind of record. "One for which he has been treated, and he is on the other side of. And as he's been 'frequenting my dwelling', as you pointed out, I can tell you from my own observations that there've been no flare-ups; he's back to normal."

"Normal?" Trouble scoffed. "How does anything about Artemis Fowl strike you as normal? He spends his off hours plotting hostile take-downs of fairies, selling our technology to the highest Mud Man bidder!"

"He didn't sell it to anyone, it was stolen! Surely you can see the difference-"

"The Mud Boy shouldn't have it to begin with!" he said, slamming his fist on the table. "We have these laws in place for a reason, and it is your  _duty_  to enforce those laws! Why haven't you wiped his mind and recovered our stolen tech? If you were living up to the badge, you'd have done it ten times over by now. But  _nooo,_  nobody can be mean to poor Artemis Fowl."

"You know the answer as well as I do," she spat, arms folded. "We tried that once, and fairy knowledge found him all over again. Wiping him now would just ensure he's even less prepared to defend himself the next time some crazed pixie comes after him."

"His safety is not our concern; protecting the secrecy of the People is. As long as he and his family know we exist, we'll never be safe."

Her anger faded slightly, temporarily overpowered by bleakness. "We'll never be safe, anyway. One day they're going to smarten up enough to blunder their way down here; it's only a matter of time. But maybe, just maybe, with a human like Artemis on our side, we can fend off that day for a little longer."

"Captain, you and I have very different definitions of 'on our side'. Fowl only sees what's in it for him. Maybe we've benefited from his presence once or twice, but it doesn't mean he's our savior – just a brat who knows some useful things."

"Yeah, well, without him and his useful know-how, every last demon and imp would be dead right now, and Opal Koboi would be self-appointed queen of the world. Ask the Council how they'd feel about that; I'm curious to hear their thoughts."

Holly had connected solidly with that one and they both knew it. For several minutes they stared across the desk at each other, nostrils flaring, shoulders taut. Finally, Trouble leaned back in his chair, tapping the stylus again.

"Is that all? Am I excused, Commander?"

"Not quite." A few more taps. "How would you best describe your relationship with the Mud Boy?"

 _"Artemis,_ " she said, enunciating his name clearly, "is a friend. We've saved each other's lives so many times that I can't keep track anymore. To be brazenly honest with you, I think the LEP would be smart to try and hire him outright, since he's pretty darn useful. Are you going somewhere with any of this, or are you just lonely and need someone to talk to?"

That last barb seemed to be more than the commander could handle; he upped his offensive. "Are you sure that's where the relationship ends?"

"Just what exactly are you implying?"

He glanced at the data pad again. "This witness claims that on at least two occasions, he's witnessed the Mud Boy entering your dwelling in the evening, and exiting the following morning. That pretty much does the implying for me."

It was no longer possible for her to keep the redness from her face, but she did some minimal damage control by allowing her rage to overtake her humiliation. "How dare you. How  _dare_ you even presume to try lecturing me about my social life in a professional capacity!"

"Then you don't deny it?"

"There's no reason to; I'm not going to dignify it with an answer! Gods, Trouble, you really should know better than this, it's a complete breach of protocol!"

"Holly, can you even grasp what the consequences might be if you're actually  _fornicating_  with one of those, those...  _things?_  You'd be a traitor to everything we stand for – and besides, it's disgusting!"

"That's  _IT!"_  Holly stood, slamming both palms down on his desk and knocking an empty coffee mug to the floor. "Commander – and I may be using that title in the past tense soon enough – this is the last time you get to cross a line with me! You are now the proud owner of a one-way ticket to Internal Affairs  _HELL,_  amigo! Put  _that_  in your pipe and smoke it!"

Her hand had scarcely touched the doorknob when Trouble's low growl reached her ears. "Captain Short, if you walk out this door right now, you may as well leave your badge behind!"

Slowly, as if in a dream, she turned. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a sure thing."

Two cold sets of eyes were locked with each other, sparks leaping in them as their heightened levels of adrenaline naturally brought their magic to the fore. Then, with deliberate movements, Holly calmly walked back into the room, ripped her badge from her lapel, and shoved it down on his desk so hard it dented the surface.

"Bring it on, Trubbiekins."

And before he could form his next thought, she was already out, down the hall, and fuming at the Internal Affairs receptionist for taking so long with the paperwork.

o o o

Artemis was just putting the finishing touches on his Gnommish-English translation program when his ring vibrated. The average human being would probably be quite alarmed by such an unexpected shock from their jewelry, but not Artemis; he had taken the components from a fairy communicator and built them into this particular ring. Smiling slightly, he put thumb and pinky to his ear and mouth, respectively; the sound waves were channeled through his bones and skin.

"Artemis Fowl the Second speaking. Is this Foaly or Holly?"

"It's me."

And in that instant, it was excruciatingly clear both that it was Holly, and that she was very upset. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied. Most definitely a lie; Artemis was positive he wasn't imagining the catch in her voice. "How was your day?"

"It was dull and meandering. How was yours?"

"Artemis..." She was crying as quietly as possible, but still too loud for the high-end fairy technology to miss it. "I lost my job."

_"WHAT?"_

"They know," she whispered. "Or they think they know, but... D'Arvit, what am I gonna do?"

He glanced worriedly at his mother and his bodyguard, both of whom had become decidedly more concerned after his previous outburst. "How in God's name would they? Details, please."

"It's... oh, who cares? They're probably listening in on my calls, anyway. Foaly, at the very least, even if he's decent enough to erase the tape afterward."

"Can I meet you? Perhaps we can find a place with fewer eavesdroppers."

"I'm in the can at Spud's Spud Emporium... meet me outside?"

"I'll be there in ten."

As he disconnected, he turned to find the only other humans in the fairy city glaring down at him, ready for an explanation. Butler's arms were folded, and Angeline's hands were on her hips.

"From what I gleaned," he began slowly, still trying to deduce all possible reasons for this turn of events as he spoke, "Holly has been unfairly and dishonorably discharged."

"They kicked her off the force?" Butler asked, arms dropping to a ready stance – his knee-jerk reaction to distressing news, even when there was no clear enemy to tackle. "That's... that is..."

"My feelings exactly, old friend; it's beyond words."

His mother's brow creased. "Did they give her a reason?"

"I don't know," he said, standing and slipping his shoes on. "But I aim to find out forthwith."

o o o

When he reached the potato-hawking establishment, it didn't take long for him to spot Holly hovering near the doors. For the first time he could remember, she was wearing not a helmet, but a hat – a fedora, to be precise. It looked bizarrely chic with her faux-leather jacket and flowery dress.

 _Didn't take her long to ditch the uniform,_  he thought to himself.

"There you are," she sighed, rubbing at her face. "I was beginning to think you got lost."

"Not as long as I possess this beauty," he said, showing her the map being displayed on his phone's small screen. "Now, where are we headed?"

"This way."

Neither of them spoke much as they picked their way through Haven. He'd wondered if she was working toward her apartment, but instead he found himself in some dusty access tunnel a few minutes later.

"Charming," he grumbled.

"We're not here to pick up decorating tips," she snapped, taking a right down another dimly-lit stretch. "The video feed here is unreliable, and there's no sound. Lots of shady deals go down in this sector. And don't worry, we weren't tailed; they can't take my years of training away, no matter what they do."

"Right, then." Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned against the wall, purposefully ignoring what the cave grime might do to his suit jacket. "Artemis the Sounding Board, at your service."

"Somebody squealed on us to the cops."

Artemis tried not to smile, but he couldn't help it. "Mud TV is airing a  _film noir_  festival, I take it?"

 _"D'Arvit,_  Artemis, can you please take this seriously?"

"I'm sorry," he immediately consoled her. "Your choice of words... I do apologize, I know you're not in a joking mood."

"Neither will you be when I tell you that you've been spotted coming and going from Casa de Holly at all hours; any dim bulb could figure out what that means."

Artemis felt his mouth go dry. "Indeed. I'm sorry if it was I who put your career in jeopardy with my carelessness; I should have had Butler sweep the hallway for-"

"No, no," she grunted. "It's not wire tapping or anything, it's my neighbor; he's such a creep. Totally Mud-phobic."

"And when he saw you cavorting with the enemy, he grew overly concerned and ranted and raved at some police switchboard operator," he supplied.

"Yeah. Arty, I don't... what can I do, here? It's not like they have any proof that I'm doing something bad, but trying to stay the course will only guide us into some really,  _really_  hot water."

Even in the midst of this crisis, his heart flipped when she called him 'Arty'. "I... I'm confused at how you lost your job, though. Surely the police have no vested interest in whether or not we're seeing each other."

"Trouble does," she spat with no small amount of acidity. "He kept whining about how getting too close to you meant I'm a traitor to fairies everywhere, but to be honest... I think he's jealous."

"Jealous? How do you mean?" Then he made the connection. "Ah. Your lackluster date of a few months ago."

"He told me that... that what we're doing is disgusting." Tears slowly slid down her face, and judging by blazing intensity in the rest of her features he could only guess that she didn't summon them but had no willpower left to staunch the flow. "And I couldn't hear it anymore, I couldn't let him keep calling you a nutjob Mud Boy, or- and he called you a  _thing_ , and I lost it."

Artemis felt his jaw pop open. "You didn't... is he still... among the living?"

"Oh, for the love of-  _no,_  I didn't open fire on my superior! What kind of loose cannon do you think I am?"

"That lays that to rest," he gusted, patting his chest to slow his heart rate. "So you told him to get bent, or similar, and then stormed out?"

"Straight to IA. They seemed keen on what I had to say, and there's going to be an inquest, but... but it still rubs me raw. And yeah, he told me to leave my badge behind if I walked out of there, and I had to get out – I had to get out or I  _would_  have done something I regretted a lot more... like maybe disemboweling the commander."

"Please don't say 'inquest' again," Artemis bade her with a shudder. "It usually means a coroner taking a heightened interest in the case of someone's mysterious death, and I don't want any casual observer to think you murdered Commander Kelp."

"No matter how much I wanted to."

"Don't say that, either," he implored her.

"I did," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Maybe not really make him die, but I wanted to grab his stupid neck and squeeze until his eyes bulged."

"Appetizing mental picture."

"He was so, so...  _antagonistic._  Why? Because he still has a crush on me, or does he really just hate humans so much that he can't even let them hang around in our city for a couple weeks without trying to persecute any fairy who'll have anything to do with them?"

"So you quit, pending an investigation into Trouble's misconduct as head of LEP," he summarized. "I see. Then perhaps you're not out of a job at all."

"Perhaps not... but if they decide he hasn't done anything out of line, then my not-so-willful resignation stands. And I will be unemployed."

This was the instant when she flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably; she continued to speak, to swear out vengeance and to ask questions, but Artemis could no longer understand her through the veil of sorrow. Knowing he could do no real good until she had vented, he merely stroked her back and whispered soothing words, allowing his nearness to be of some scant comfort.

"What will we do?" she finally breathed, voice breaking. "Can we even stay together if all it does is piss everybody off?"

Dr. Argon's words echoed in his mind:  _I_ _n the end, the couple usually becomes divided by that very thing. Though they set out to have their romance flourish in the face of adversity, the adversity triumphs, and they both finish out the tale in a far worse state than when they began._

 _No,_  he thought defiantly.  _We will be the ones who triumph._

"You really think you can be rid of me so easily? Come now, I thought you had a better grasp on my  _modus operandi._ "

She pulled back and smiled blearily up at him. "That's all I needed to hear."

It was the dampest kiss yet, but Artemis didn't care. It was enough that they hadn't stopped coming.

o o o

Half an hour passed within the tunnel. Some time was spent engaging in comforting activities, some trying to decide the wisest course of action from that point. Eventually, they dried Holly out as best as possible, composed themselves, and merged once more with the bustling foot traffic of the city.

"Is my place even safe anymore?" she whispered as they walked. "With that dirtbag Reed lurking around, analyzing our every move..."

"Perhaps 'moving' is the answer, then. Why not procure new accommodations that do not house such cantankerous neighbors?"

"Good luck," she sighed. "If there's a place like that anywhere in Haven, I'll eat this stupid hat."

"Oh? I thought the hat was quite fetching."

She beamed up at him. "Really?" Then she coughed, focusing her gaze straight ahead. "Wow. Maybe letting myself get thrown off-kilter when you tell me I look nice is kind of a dead giveaway; I should watch out for that."

"You'll do no such thing; I like you off-kilter."

Her nervous giggle was probably audible to anyone nearby, but no one was in the proper mental state to pick up on it when they were busy staring at the Abominable Mud Man.

"I'm a popular oddity," he observed.

"You were always an oddity," she joked. "But yeah... I see now what you meant before, they really do just stand there with their mouths agape."

Holly's hand twitched within her pocket. She wanted nothing more than to draw it out and place it into the one hanging near her forearm, but that would be tantamount to suicide in such a public locale. Why did fate have to be so cruel? Why couldn't she walk down the street holding hands with the person who was most important to her?

"You can come back to mine," he offered, only the slightest note of discomfort in his voice. "Mother and Butler are there, of course, but at least you will be among friends instead of prying old codgers."

"That might be nice," she ceded, nodding. "Let's do that, at least for a little while. Then I'll go home and... mope around by myself."

"You won't mope," he insisted. "You'll catch up on reading, or do some exercises; Dr. Argon is an enthusiastic proponent of the 'physical health having a bearing on mental health' theorem."

"So I should keep busy while I wait for my fate to be decided by outside parties?"

"Better than moping."

Her sigh was beleaguered, but she said, "You are right, of course. Nobody ever got anywhere by letting themselves stay depressed."

"That's the spirit."

When they reached the door that segregated the humans from the rest of Haven, Holly began to shake. Artemis noticed this and whispered, "What is it?"

"I'm... okay, don't think I'm being silly, because, well, I kind of am. But you know... I am about to meet your mother."

He cleared his throat nervously as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder blades. "Don't fret overly. She already loves you to pieces, and she's seen you once in all her life – while being Opal's marionette, no less."

"But I'm  _meeting your mother._  I'm the girlfriend meeting the in-laws, oh  _gods_ , can this day get any more stressful?"

It really is a pity Holly said that, as it could, and would.

The instant Artemis had the door open, he sensed something was not as it should be. This was confirmed seconds later when his mother cried, "Oh, Artemis, there you are – I am sorry, it's regrettable, but there seemed to be little we could do to stop them!"

"Stop... what?" His eyes swept between Butler's indiscernible countenance and his mother's fretful eyes. "What has transpired while I was away? Butler?"

"The LEP has taken it upon themselves to do a thorough check into your current undertakings," he said in his usual businesslike tones. "They had a warrant, signed and dated, so I thought it best not to take on the entire police force single-handedly. Not that I wasn't tempted..."

"The laptop," he said without pause; not really a question, just a fact he wasn't entirely certain of yet. "My PowerBook is what they were after, wasn't it?"

"I am sorry," Angeline sighed, hands balled into fists of helpless frustration. "I did ask them to wait for you to return, but they didn't seem to care what some old human woman thought."

"Ma'am, I apologize," Holly said, hiding her fear of speaking with the parent of her lover so well that even Artemis wasn't sure it was still there beneath the veneer of professionalism. "This seems to be my fault; through my friendship with your son, I believe my superior got the notion that we're somehow colluding to... well, I really don't know what he's thinking, to be honest. Maybe he isn't at all."

"Butler," Artemis said quietly, "have you swept...?"

"Here," he said, holding out two gadgets so tiny that even against the smooth backdrop of the man's hand, he still had to squint to make them out. Bugs, audio only. "And I can guarantee this is it. Orders?"

"Didn't you say you had to use the facilities?"

The corner of the giant man's mouth turned upward. "I believe I did." Seconds after he entered the recycling room, the low hum issued. So much for the bugs.

"Great," Holly hissed as she kicked the door closed. "That's a load off."

"How are you, darling?" his mother asked, throwing her arms around the short-statured elf and causing Holly's eyes to widen farther than Artemis had believed possible. "You've had a rough day of it, I hear."

"There've b-been sunnier," Holly stammered, patting the woman's back hesitantly. "Thanks for your, er, concern. But we need to focus; the next few minutes are crucial. What's our plan of attack?"

"Eh?" Artemis said, still bemused by the sight of her nervous reaction to his mother's genial nature.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say there's stuff on that computer you don't want perused," Holly said as the two females released. "Can you hack it from here, maybe?"

"Not to toot my own horn, but it is hack-proof," Artemis sighed. "Even by me – and certainly by Foaly. But given enough time, I'm sure he'll be able to break in... at its current security level." He put a thumb and forefinger to his chin. "But I may be able to do something about that, depending on if the centaur plays along."

"Tell us what you need," Butler said as he emerged from the toilet, cracking his knuckles.

The vampiric smile was back. "Just three and a half minutes, and this ring."

o o o  _END Chapter Eight_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if the chapter title didn't tip you off, yes, the excrement is hitting the fan. I defy anyone to contradict me in this matter: Trouble Kelp, for all his redeeming qualities, is canonically something of a... the word "douchebag" comes to mind.


	9. Desecration

**POLICE PLAZA, HAVEN CITY; NOW**

Foaly held his breath as the nameless, faceless officer walked into his inner sanctum. This was a momentous occasion; a challenge was about to present itself that excited him more than any other he'd encountered in his long and varied career as an inventor and special consultant to the LEP. Yes, this was a day for the history files.

"Here it is," the pixie said with no fanfare whatsoever. "The chief wants you to crack it ay-sap so we can get down to brass tacks."

"You cannot rush genius," Foaly complained, whinnying. "This will be a defining moment in the legacy of the People! I don't care what outmoded alloy your tacks are made from, I am going to relish this."

"Don't  _relish_  it too long, or Kelp will have your carcass in a sling," the man grumbled as he set down the rectangular object and shuffled back out.

 _At last,_  Foaly thought, positively wriggling with glee.  _A chance to really take a crack at Artemis Fowl._

Gingerly, he picked up the laptop computer and placed it upon an omnisensor; this would more or less give him unrestricted access to the inner workings. It wasn't necessary for the device to be on at all, but he booted it up, anyway; no sense in taking the easy way in. There was a lot more fun to be had.

"Ooh," he breathed when he saw the login screen; it was entirely unique. Not the one the operating system provided as part of its package deal. Artemis had designed his own encryption, and hopefully it was no eternity code. But then again, if it was...

"Run Foaly program: Moebius." Instantly, the computer connected to the omnisensor began humming and chirping, and numbers flashed across its screen. He'd been laboring to improve the speed and efficiency of this program, amping up the core processor speed until it was possible. At last, a chance to prove there was a point to his draining the departmental budget.

_Ding!_

Foaly grinned; right there on the screen was the password. He could have told his own system to automatically enter it, but he wanted to lay the final masterstroke with his own hands. Flexing his fingers for a moment, he bent over the keyboard and tapped in the words.

It was like magic; a desktop full of icons appeared. What should he open first? Where was the true meat inside the coded shell?

For a split second, just long enough to make him sigh, Foaly regretted his actions. Orders notwithstanding, he knew (or at the very least suspected) that Artemis had earnestly turned over a new leaf. On the other hand, there would likely be dozens of now-defunct plans of world domination lurking in there, and gigabytes of fairy knowledge that shouldn't be known to any Mud Men on earth, which was all Trouble Kelp would need to secure an order for a mind-wipe... or incarceration. Was he doing the right thing?

Of course he was: in the name of science.

His hands were still hovering over the keyboard indecisively when his communicator buzzed; a private channel, non-LEP. Holly?

"Yes, Captain Short?" he said once he'd donned the earpiece. "I was beginning to worry about you, what with all the-"

"Greetings, my noble steed."

"Fowl," he replied simply. Then he grinned. "Calling to congratulate me on splitting your code like a ripe watermelon?"

"Indeed, have you?" Artemis replied. "Then you are to be commended. I suppose you know by now that it was an eternity code?"

"Naturally. I've been working on a state-of-the-art code-breaker ever since your run-in with Mr. Spiro. It's a thing of beauty."

A light chuckle. "Then I hope one day to examine this breaker of yours. Professional interest, you understand. Of course, right now we have a bit of a situation."

"Yes," he sighed. "And just to get it out in the open, Mud Boy, this is strictly me earning my salary; Kelp might be foolhardy enough to erase your mental slate again, and you and I might be more worldly-wise in that aspect, but hey, who listens to the centaur? Up to me, I'd hand your PowerBook right back to you – well, now that the fun part's over."

"I suspected you might feel that way. So I want you to turn up your earpiece."

Foaly was instantly on guard. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to reveal something that your superiors may not like – and I think you'll appreciate. All the same, I want to minimize risks; we are on a secure channel, correct?"

"As secure as they come." Giving in to his curiosity, Foaly upped the audio level of his earpiece. "Okay, but make it snappy."

"Listen," Artemis spoke in a clear tone. He took a few steadying breaths – probably winding up to the big delivery – then said, " _PHALANX."_

 _Said_  might not be the most accurate description to use – it was more like  _shouted._  Foaly's ears were instantly ringing, and he ripped out the earpiece to give himself room to wiggle a finger in there. As he returned the audio levels to normal, he blustered, "What in the name of Frond – why did you have me crank the volume if you were going to start yelling? Are you trying to make me deaf?"

"Dear Foaly, why would I wish to end our conversation now? I am only beginning to gloat, and it's more amusing to gloat with your eardrums intact."

"Gloat? What's that supposed to... oh."

Only then did Foaly notice the countdown on the PowerBook's screen. There was a  _cancel_ button to click, but by the time he put it together, there was only one second left, and it was one second too few. His hand was still moving the mouse cursor toward the button when it disappeared, and the word "Phalanx" flashed across the screen, followed by an image of a shield with a spear superimposed atop it.

"Nothing's working," he grunted in shock; not even the button to reboot the system would respond. "What have you done?"

"Done? Me? How dare you slander my good name."

"The mic," he breathed, glancing at the tiny pinhole over the laptop's screen. "Your shouting, it... was an audio command. Brilliant."

"I predict that the fun is far from over," Artemis chuckled. "Enjoy."

"Wait!" Foaly snapped, still fruitlessly pounding away at the buttons that yielded no results. "You just made a bonehead move, Mud Boy – you're interfering with a criminal investigation, which alone is probably as damning as anything you might be trying to cover up!"

"Am I? There's no record of my call, because, as you said, this is a secure line. Besides, all I did was talk. On the other hoof, you will be busy long into the night for weeks to come trying to circumvent  _this_  fortification. Just the kind of sport you pray for, isn't it?"

"Artemis..."

"Ta."

And the line went dead.

 _Well played, Fowl,_  Foaly thought to himself, unable to keep the dark smirk from his horsey lips.  _At least nobody can ever claim you're predictable._

o o o

"Done," Artemis said as he twisted his ring back to the outside of his hand.

"Are you sure it'll be enough?" Holly asked dubiously.

"It will be more than enough. My dear Captain, if Foaly can actually sort the Phalanx Code,  _I'll_ be the one to eat your hat."

"But won't the code itself incriminate you? I mean, it shows that you're-"

"That I'm a private individual who doesn't want his business to be strewn about for the world to see. There's no law against that, here or on the surface; I can plant all the security measures I like within my personal files, and I am not obligated to deactivate them and thereby incriminate myself. From herein, it's up to the police to crack them."

"Nice move," Butler conceded, bowing just slightly. Artemis couldn't resist smiling.

"That lets  _you_ off the hook," Holly said. "But what about me? Any secret passwords that will put me back in uniform?"

"Not quite my area of expertise," Artemis responded with a sigh as his euphoria at having bested the LEP evaporated. "But if the commander truly did as you say, then the best thing we can be doing right now is lying low while Internal Affairs does their job."

"You're right." She nodded as she doffed her fedora and swept a hand through her hair. "At least none of us will be lying low in the prison yard at Howler's Peak."

"We'll figure something out," Angeline said reassuringly. "Not that all this cloak-and-dagger is my forte, but any friend of Arty's is going to get all the help he or she needs from me."

"That's really not necessary, Mrs. Fowl," Holly said nervously, staring down at her shoes; they resembled human athletic shoes, except the clasps appeared to be magnetic. "It's not your problem that I screwed up. Trying to give your commanding officer a dressing-down isn't recommended in the LEP handbook."

"Have you actually read the LEP handbook?" Butler asked; when Holly pulled a face, he followed up with, "I thought not."

"I skimmed," she admitted quietly. "I'm more of a hands-on kinda gal, y'know?"

With great difficulty, Artemis choked back his initial semi-lewd response to keep from traumatizing his mother, and thereby himself. "Er, yes. So for now our best plan would probably be for Holly to return home, and for us to stay put; soon enough, my probationary period of state-approved sanity will be up, and I'll be able to reacquaint myself with Fowl Manor. I'm sure if they haven't cracked the code by then, they'll relent and return my property on my way out."

"And if not?" Butler pondered.

"That's why I have you, old friend," he said with a wink; Butler did something that came within a stone's throw of grinning.

"I think you ought to go with Holly," his mother spoke up.

"Why?" he said, startled. "Is there... something you want me to pick up while I'm out, perhaps?"

His mother seemed exasperated with this reply. "Policewoman or no, she's still one lone girl – an ordinary citizen for the time being – walking home alone. Say her former friends with badges stage some sort of ambush?"

Butler, Holly and Artemis glanced at each other. Among themselves, they knew Holly was more than capable of taking down even a dozen armed LEP operatives; none of them had half the training she did, save perhaps Butler, but even compared with him Holly had more years of field experience logged. All the same, there was safety in numbers.

"I'll go," Butler offered. "The leprechaun that dares ambush me when I walk back home alone is one I'd like to meet."

"The three of us, then," Artemis insisted. "Butler can be on guard for all traveling parties, and no one need be caught without backup."

"None of this feels necessary," Holly complained. "I'll be fine, seriously; I'm just going to my own apartment, not crossing an active battlefield."

Artemis's eyes sparked. "Captain, while Trouble Kelp is hell-bent on causing us continuous misery, there's no such thing as 'fine' or 'safe'. It won't hurt us to be a bit more cautious, at least for now."

The look of revulsion on Holly's face begged to differ.

o o o

Thus, we come to find two humans and a Recon jock on sabbatical traipsing through Haven, eyes peeled, nerves rattled. They didn't make the most inconspicuous group of all time; everyone was watching them, some merely curious, others fearful, and still others outraged. Why were there so many Mud Men in what was meant to be a fairy sanctuary?

"Finally, that's over," Holly gusted as she punched in the code for the complex door, and it yielded. "I can't believe that one teenaged punk actually threw a drink at Butler!"

"Neither can I," Butler agreed. "The gall; he should be able to tell I can snap him in half like a dry and brittle twig. You think maybe he was-"

"No, I meant littering like that. Empty cups aren't for smacking Mud Men upside the head." When Butler merely blinked at her, she laughed and said, "It's a joke, Mr. Serious."

"Ha."

The door to her apartment was ajar. It was fairly evident that it had been kicked in, from the scuff marks near the now-ruined lock. The LEP shield tacked below her peephole hung askew.

"Do you have a weapon?" Butler muttered.

"Sorry," she hissed. "Had to leave it in my locker when I resigned."

Holly shrugged. "Blame me for trying to lighten the... what in..."

"Allow me." And in an instant, his Sig Sauer was out, and he followed the intruder's example by using his foot to tap the bottom-most part of the door and nudge it open, entering the room gun-first.

"You guys aren't going to like this."

No trespassers were still lollygagging around; this was at least some relief. As Butler checked the shower and recycling rooms, Artemis and Holly shuffled in behind him, dumbstruck.

Everything had been upended; the cabinets in the kitchenette were wide open, pots, pans and plates lying on the floor. Even the cooler had been left swinging open as it slowly defrosted. Blankets, throw pillows, and clothing were strewn everywhere. There was some kind of paint on the carpet but it was obscured by the clutter. Perhaps the worst possible damage was the large hole in the screen of her wall-mounted television; it was obviously beyond repair and would need replacing.

"Why?" was the fist word Holly could summon. "Why is... what is this, why would anybody ransack my place?"

"Do you have a suitcase?" Artemis asked as he eased the useless door closed to at least afford them privacy.

"No," she admitted, hand over her mouth. "Never had to move before or stay anywhere overnight for more than a day or two. But I guess the coffee table would work. It's pretty lightweight."

When Butler rejoined them, Artemis pantomimed moving a broom back and forth. The bodyguard nodded his understanding and began methodically checking light fixtures and other unlikely places for unwanted surveillance equipment – or anything more sinister. "Sound acceptable. Let's begin packing, shall we?"

Holly sighed, annoyed. "Artemis-"

"You're not staying here," he told her forcefully. "At the very least, not until the lock has been repaired. I'll not have you entertaining such a notion."

The elfin captain's ire flared slightly. "You'll not  _have_  me- who do you think you're talking down to?"

"Holly," he sighed, grasping her shoulder. "Sometimes it takes a friend to state the obvious. You might not want to leave your home behind, but for now it is the sole option available to us. I'm only trying to make our exit as swift as possible."

"You're right." She passed a hand over her face, the brief flare of anger being doused by onset of depression. "This is just... crappy, that's all. It's so crappy it's craptastic."

Artemis allowed himself a tight smile as he picked up a handful of shirts. "I'll submit 'craptastic' to Merriam-Webster in the morning."

It only took about five or so minutes to shove most of what Holly Short owned into the coffee table's hidden storage, which Butler assured them both he could carry with relative ease. As she was cinching a spare bungee cable around it to hold it closed, Artemis noticed something. "Hmm."

"What is it?" Butler asked. "Hear something?"

"Nothing like that. These just... I believe them to be letters. Perhaps if we move all the furniture out of the way..."

He was indicating the carpet. Once they had Holly's makeshift suitcase by the door, a few moments had the chairs and futon piled on the smooth, carpetless floor of the kitchenette. All three of them stood back, puzzled.

"Well, that's something else again," Butler grunted. "What do you make of it?"

"If we take it at face value, it says  _jaidmot_ ," Artemis told them needlessly; it was quite plain, spelled out in Gnommish, and even Butler had a passing knowledge of the alphabet. "Translating to... 'one who wallows', I believe – though there's every chance I may not be reading it correctly. Perhaps it's the name of some new offshoot of the B'wa Kell?"

"No, it isn't." The humans turned to find Holly's face burning crimson, fists vibrating with scarcely-bottled outrage. "It says 'wallower', because that's what I've been doing. Wallowing in the mud."

Artemis felt his blood run cold as he distantly heard Butler let out a weary sigh. This was no mere burglary or act of vandalism; it was a hate crime.

"Holly-"

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Holly asked him yet again, voice trembling. "Because this just got a whole lot scarier. You might want to bail out now before both of us wind up in the morgue."

"One moment," Artemis whispered as he spun his ring inward. "I'll have Foaly on the horn within m-"

"No," she bade him quietly. "Just... leave it be. It's too degrading."

"Damn the degradation," he spat. "These unscrupulous vermin are going to be caught and forced to make reparations."

"But I don't want them to. I don't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to me."

"They already have," Butler said in his bass tones, contempt lacing his words. "If you stay silent. Because that's their goal; to break you."

Artemis shook his head. "You may not be on good terms with the local law enforcement division just now, but this is exactly the type of crime that must be reported and dealt with."

"Artemis, I really d-"

"I will  _not_  stand idly by and let them taint this - let them continue to believe even for a half-second that their way of thinking has any merit! By making our relationship their concern they have brought down the wrath of Artemis Fowl, and so help me by the time I'm through with them they will know it  _intimately!"_

The room was still echoing with his shouts when Holly slipped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his abdomen. "Fine, then. Open this can of stinkworms. I... don't agree, but I can't say I disagree, either. Because I have too much respect for you to let them reduce you to a justification for their bigotry."

"I'll figure something out," he whispered, hand resting on the back of her neck. "It could be that outdated chivalry Orion left behind, but I'd like to believe anyone would feel the same. Anyone who knew you."

"Second that," Butler growled.

"Let's go, guys," she sniffled, opening the door and yanking the police logo from where it hung. "Before I can look at it again."

On their way out, Artemis caught sight of Mr. Reed peeping from around his doorjamb. In spite of everything, Artemis smiled at the man – as he knew his smile was ten times scarier than any of his other expressions.

 _You'll be first on my list,_  he swore silently.  _Prepare yourself._

o o o

On their way across town, Artemis called Foaly directly and reported the incident, rather than wasting time with Kelp – whom he would most likely have lambasted rather than spoken to calmly. Foaly, to his credit, was in no way amused.

"I must say," he grunted, "even though I'm a little uncomfortable with you and crew in our humble town myself, there's no reason to deface anyone's living quarters over it. I'll make sure someone runs down there to check it over."

"Out of curiosity, have you ever heard this before?  _Jaidmot?"_

"I have," he sighed, as if he'd rather not elaborate but felt compelled to do so anyway. "Back in the era of Frond, there were a lot of dissenters during San the Deluded's reign who threw it around. His policies toward Mud Men were deemed too charitable for their tastes. A few other candidates for Council have been slapped with it, though it's not shouted with quite the same level of frivolity anymore."

"Blind hatred is passé?"

"Go figure." Both ends of the call went silent for a few seconds. "Artemis... I hate to be a nosy nag, but..."

"Hmm?"

"It's awfully hard to block out all the water cooler gossip, and I have been giving it my level best. But I feel like if I don't ask now, I may be setting myself up for an epic shock."

"This would be about the rantings of one Mr. Reed?"

"It's all anybody can talk about." A hesitant laugh. "It's unfair, because it makes it sound like what happened is her own fault, and it isn't. But without Holly around Police Plaza, it makes her especially... conspicuous."

"You're right."

"I am?" The dismay in those two words from the centaur was audible.

"Yes. It  _isn't_  her fault."

Foaly sighed as he adjusted some instrument panel or other. "Didn't I just say I really would rather let sleeping dogs lie? Bear in mind that Holly's my friend, too. I'm worried."

"No need. Soon enough, we'll get to the bottom of this – and I'll be trusting in the meantime that our esteemed commander is being thoroughly grilled by IA?"

"They're putting the thumbscrews to him as we speak."

Artemis smiled again. "Oh, if only that were true in a literal sense." He cleared his throat. "You'll appreciate that it is not proper procedure to ask one of your subordinates about their personal, intimate relations – much less in a work setting. If anyone faults Holly for walking out after that, they're equally shortsighted."

"I know, I know. Can't tell you what's going on in Trouble's noggin. Oh, well – back to work."

"Made any headway, noble steed?" he chuckled.

"I hate you."

And then Foaly was once more slogging through piles and piles of code.

"We're going to end up on that beachfront property sooner than we thought, Artemis," Holly said glumly as Artemis twisted his ring around.

"How do you mean?"

"It might be the only place we can escape all this ridiculousness."

"Ah," he snickered. "I do believe you're putting the cart before the horse,  _Mon Capitan_. This can all be sorted by brunch tomorrow."

"Or it could still be a roiling mess five years from now," she countered, cheeks filling with color.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. "Have I said...?"

 _"Mon Capitan?"_ she whispered back. "You forget that I have the gift of tongues."

"A formidable gift it is. And you also the gift of being able to speak any language besides," he said suggestively, which made her blush a deeper shade at his sly witticism. "What of them?"

"Arty... French or no French, you can't call me something that...  _possessive_ in public. If anybody hears you..."

Now Artemis was blushing from her use of the diminutive form of his name. "Sorry, that wasn't- it's sort of a human expression in English-speaking regions. It isn't meant to be so literal. But I can see..."

"Yeah," she breathed.

"I take it back," he followed up with suddenly, smiling wide as he realized what it meant. "Perhaps I'm fond of it, now. 'O Captain, my Captain'..."

"Cut that out!" she hissed.

"The prize I sought is won," he intoned, skipping ahead in the famous poem and paraphrasing a part that best described his feelings. Holly's ruddy face was now giving the late Julius Root a run for his money.

"Stop teasing her, Artemis," Butler grunted under the weight of the coffee table. "Haven't I told you before how foolish it is to goad those who can fracture your spine in under three movements?"

Now it was Holly's turn to grin up at him, and Artemis gulped. "Ah. Point taken, old friend."

Precisely then, he was struck with a dark realization: the poet's words were not positive and free-spirited. The "captain" being referenced was dead.

Without warning, a cold, vice-like pressure appeared within his chest, squeezing at his heart with paralyzing force. Holly could  _die._  It wasn't as if he hadn't been faced with this possibility before – or watched it happen, then been able to correct it later – but this was the first time he'd considered it since their relationship had achieved the next level. Before, he had been mostly certain he could survive without any of his friends; a crushing blow, perhaps, but he would move on, form new bonds.

But without Holly... could there be a world without Holly? What would be the use?

This wasn't a rosy notion, and it followed him all the way back to the Fowl apartment, swirling about his head like a maleficent fog. It would have to be up to him to ensure this never came to pass. A responsibility – no.  _A sacred duty._

o o o  _END Chapter Nine_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fun. Artemis gets the last laugh with his lappytappy... but Holly's out one place to live. Things like this still happen in our modern age; synagogues have slurs spray-painted across their edifice, as if World War II never ended (or, as some would have us believe, never took place to begin with). So much light in this world, but so much darkness hiding in the corners.
> 
> NEXT: Everything gets a lot more... public.


	10. Polarization

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

"Authorities have ruled out the act of vandalism being staged by the former LEP Captain herself," the pixie with the bobbed hair was saying into her microphone as she stood outside Holly Short's apartment complex. "Police technical has pulled up surveillance from out front, which shows several shrouded figures entering the building; apparently they had the building passcode and were presented no challenge until reaching Miss Short's door. We also have footage of Miss Short from the exact time of the incident, halfway across town."

The image onscreen changed to Holly, clad in her dress and fedora, loitering outside Spud's Spud Emporium. A few seconds later, just as Artemis came into view in the corner of the shot, she tilted her head back, giving the hidden camera a clear view of her face as she stretched impatiently; it zoomed in on her, sharpening as it went.

"As you can see, the resolution is high enough to determine identity. We also see here the offending Mud Man that is purportedly the cause of all this strife, Artemis Fowl, joining her. The two are conversing like old drinking buddies." The reporter's face reappeared. "Perhaps she is the victim of a heinous attack, and the folk at fault should be made to compensate for damages, but this reporter wonders: how safe are we as long as Miss Short continues associating herself with a human – one best known for having successfully absconded with fairy gold for the first time in the People's history? Live from uptown Haven, this is Persephone Swotta, FNN."

The cameras went dead, and Persephone sighed deeply, handing the microphone off to a young sprite with the tips of his ears pierced and his pants on backwards.  _Honestly,_ she thought,  _youth these days..._

But she couldn't shake those lingering feelings of doubt. Yes, she had claimed to be worried about the Mud Men in their city, but truthfully it didn't seem to be a major issue; none of them (how many was it, two or three?) had perpetrated even such a minor infraction during their stay as jaywalking. Besides, according to her sources the city would be Mud-free in a week or so, anyway. Perhaps drawing attention to a "problem" that didn't exist would be more likely to create ones.

 _Oh well,_ she told herself as she headed for the news van.  _Such is the way of the media; fairies want big stories with lots of intrigue and ne'er-do-wells. So what if they get another version of the truth? It's the price the People pay for staying informed and entertained._

It wasn't enough to convince her that said price was worth it.

o o o

"Thanks, Foaly," Holly grumbled as she stabbed her thumb into the remote's power button. "Couldn't have shortened the clip to keep Artemis out of it, eh?"

"It's not so bad as you think," Angeline said from behind her sewing project. "When they begin straying into 'but this reporter wonders', it means there's nothing truly newsworthy for them to trot out. Grasping at straws to maintain their ratings."

Holly nodded, but couldn't bring herself to say anything. All of her answers sounded so depressing that she kept them sealed within her head.

"That's the locksmith taken care of," Artemis announced as he rejoined them, spinning his ring on the finger it never left. "You'll be pleased to know the insurance policy built into your lease will take care of it.

" "Yes, it's a great relief."

Artemis snorted as he plopped down next to her on the floor. "Why am I not convinced your reply was genuine?"

"Because I have a lot bigger things to worry about than those locks," she growled. "Like where on earth I'm going to live now. Atlantis?"

"No sense in that way of thinking. Soon enough this will all simmer down and the sensationalism will wane. Kelp will be sacked, and you will be reinstated. Life will resume its normal pace, and one day this will merely be a distant memory."

Holly slipped her hand into Artemis's when she was sure no one else could see it from any angle. Only when he squeezed did she begin to feel less morose.

Again, they ordered from the dinner menu for Cazingo's, and their dwarf friend expressed only mild surprise to find an elf staying with them. Just as he was being handed his gold, he finally put it together.

"Wait... you're the ex-policefairy from the news, aren't you?"

"Thank you, sir, and keep the change," Artemis said forcefully as he attempted to shut the door, but the dwarf's shoe was suddenly in the way of its swing.

"Rotten thing those hooligans did to you," he grunted, and Artemis was struck by how similar his voice was to that of Mr. Diggums. Did they all speak with the same gravelly tones? "I mean, not that I'm exactly the Mud Men's biggest fan – no offense, folks - but who gives a troll's tuckus if you have one 'round for tea? It's your business."

"Thanks," Holly sighed. "But it looks like I'll be the one staying for tea until my apartment is livable again."

The delivery dwarf nodded. "Guess it would be that or a hotel. Crazy days, but these three seem alright by me – as long as they tip well. Anyway, enjoy the food."

And then he was gone. In such a small way, the mood in the tiny room instantly lifted, and everyone dared to feel something like cheerful. It made for a nice dinner with lighthearted conversation, followed by a rousing debate on fairy policies versus human ones.

Angeline Fowl seemed delighted with all of it. Her son could tell that she viewed all of this as a fascinating diversion from her normal day-to-day, like summering on Grand Bahama or going on safari in East Africa. He wondered if she would ever get beyond the "Oh, look at the quaint little natives" stage and realize they were actual people, not a tourist attraction. Then again, perhaps he wasn't giving her enough credit; they way she was laughing along with Holly as they compared the two species' fashion sense went a long way toward proving he had underestimated her. Either way, at least she wasn't frightened or on edge. He contented himself with feeling grateful.

Holly's futon was crammed into a corner where a dresser had once stood. Though Artemis had expected her to use it, she acted offended.

"No way, Artemis," she told him solidly. "You can take the futon. I'll be fine on the couch."

"But it's  _your_  futon. Seems to follow that you would be using it."

"This couch is too short for you," she kept on, placing her pillow at one end. "I'm amazed you haven't been waking up with neck cramps all week. No, it's my bed and I'll decide if I want to sleep in it or not. So if you refuse, you'll just be sleeping on the floor instead."

That settled the matter. Artemis felt slightly uncomfortable when he noticed his mother watching their brief squabble with heightened interest. His claims that they were "just friends" were going to unravel any day now.

o o o

When morning dawned, Artemis stretched happily. He'd been having a dream that filled him with warmth and hope. The callous men who had ransacked her quarters had come forward to confess, then issued a public apology. They were let off with a warning, and Holly was welcomed back into the force with open arms following Trouble Kelp's abdication. Just at the end, before he had woken, he'd been kneeling before a beaming Holly, sliding his fairy communicator from his finger and putting it on one of hers...

And then he was more fully awake, staring at the ceiling. Not a snowball's chance. This wound was about to get a lot bloodier before it could be cauterized. But it was an idyllic notion that lightened his heart. If only there were a way to download his dreams and burn them to video disc, so he could relish them for all time... maybe he could make that his next project.

"Morning, son," Angeline whispered. When he opened his mouth, she raised a finger to her lips, then pointed next to him. "Some of us are still exhausted, I think."

When he followed her gaze, he saw one of his arms was pinned down by Holly's neck as she snored quietly, curled into the fetal position and pointing toward him. When did she... wait. They were sleeping together, and in front of his  _mother!_

"Mum," he hissed in alarm as he tried to deduce the best course of action for collecting his arm. "I- this isn't what it- I don't know how-"

"Calm down," she ordered in quiet tones as she sipped her sim-coffee. "I'll have a great many questions for the two of you later, but let her rest for now. After a day like yesterday, I'd say she needs it."

Artemis nodded weakly. That was probably the only good reaction he could have hoped for, as all other probable ones involved shouting and brandishing of various kitchen implements.

"And it's nice to hear you call me 'Mum' for once," she said with a slight crinkling at the corners of her eyes before she rejoined Butler in conversation by the stove.

 _I'm dead_ , he thought miserably as he relaxed, trying not to enjoy the elf's nearness too much.  _Mother will draw and quarter me as soon as I don't have the sleeping form of a crime victim to protect me. How did this happen?_

"I sleepwalked," Holly whispered, so quietly only he could hear. When he glanced over, one of her eyes was open a crack; the blue one that had once resided in his head. "I think I got up to go to the bathroom, and my body was on auto-pilot, so I jumped right into my bed without remembering why I shouldn't. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Artemis."

He smiled sleepily, trying to non-verbally convey that he didn't mind. When she smiled back, he knew the message had been sent successfully. Even if this caused his mother to start keeping closer tabs on them, and earned them a few stern talking-tos, how could he regret a night in her arms?

"By the way," his mother announced to Artemis in a soft voice, "Butler has agreed to escort me down to the shops for an hour or two. Perhaps by then our guest will have awakened?"

"I should hope so," he mouthed. What was this? Why was she leaving him alone, in bed, with a woman? He pinched his own cheek with his free hand; most assuredly awake. What was his mother playing at?

"Be back soon," she whispered as she blew him a kiss. As Butler closed the door behind them, however, he caught the concerned glance she cast back into the apartment. That spoke volumes; she had decided to trust her son, even if she couldn't convince all of herself that nothing was going on.

 _She's too smart for me,_  he thought with a chuckle.  _In this respect, anyway._

"Here's what I  _really_  need."

In a flash, Holly was straddling him, her hot tears stinging his cheeks when they engaged lips, hands roving over the top and sides of his head. He had no recourse but to respond in kind, to show her unequivocally that he had grown no new doubts; they were in perfect accord.

"What if they come back?" he asked her while he peeled her dress over her head.

"Whatever." Her voice was throaty and deep; he supposed she must have been touched by Mrs. Fowl's considerate departure. "I'll take the risk. No risk, no reward. Like I said, I... I need this."

Just as her mouth darted toward his again, he turned his face aside and rasped, "Contraception! W-we need-"

"We do," she agreed, nodding as she slowly slid downward. Where could she be going, and why was she licking her lips? "And I'll get it in a minute. But what say we take in a little sideshow before moving on to the main event?"

A few seconds later, Artemis was surprised to hear himself giggling.

o o o

 _"Foaly!_  In my office  _now!"_

The centaur shuffled all four of his hooves. Oh, how he dreaded this report. In fact, he had purposefully taken his coffee break at a local café instead of in the break room to avoid being available to the commander's summons. But now he'd been spotted. No use in hiding anymore.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Damn right I wanted to see you, donkey boy," Trouble Kelp bristled. "You've been in and out of this building like you're caught on a rubber band."

"Very witty, Sir," Foaly guffawed, tossing back his mane. "That is a good- rubber band! Wait until I tell Caballine that one, she'll crack up!"

Trouble's eyebrow shot up; just the one. "Why do I get the sinking feeling you don't have any good news for me? Wait... it's probably because you're buttering me up so much."

Foaly let out a few more weak gales of laughter, then slumped. "Has anyone ever told you what a keen, observant elf you are?"

"Spill."

"It's no good," Foaly sighed as he tossed a piece of paper onto the desk. "There's my analysis. I'll keep at it if you like, or you could farm it out to what's left of Koboi Labs, but in my professional opinion... Master Fowl's laptop is impossible to hack."

"You expect me to believe that?" Trouble said without pause. "Look, I know you and the Mud Boy have worked together in the past, and you may feel some lingering sense of loyalty. But that doesn't-"

"Sorry, sir, but you don't seem to understand – it's  _unhackable._  I mean it, I don't care how much either of us likes or dislikes Mud Men, any way you slice it. After all the time spent trying to unravel the matrix of his cipher, normally I would have made  _some_  headway, even if it's negligible; I'd have found a foothold from which to base the rest of my efforts. But this time... I am honestly no closer to figuring out how it works than I was when the boys brought it in. Besides, you know my work comes before 'buddies'."

The commander leaned back, eying the paper. "So... you mean this? You can't do it?"

"Much though it  _utterly destroys_ me to admit this... I can't. Not without a few more years and one metric ton of gold's worth of new equipment. Then...  _maybe."_

"Then  _maybe?"_

Foaly crossed his arms in irritation. "Do you honestly think when  _I_  call something 'unhackable' that I'm exaggerating?"

Commander Kelp nodded slowly, letting out a low, resigned gust of wind. "Then your recommendation is probably to just give it back."

"Sir... I think we both know how vindictive the Mud Boy can get when he feels he's been slighted in some way. If there were any chance  _whatsoever_  of gleaning some tiny nugget if useful info, I'd be telling an alternate tale, but... what's the use in hanging onto it if all it will be doing is collecting dust and incurring wrath?"

"So," Kelp said, glancing down the paper again. "It comes down to how badly I want Fowl to squirm."

"Pretty much."

Another slow nod. "Keep it on ice until tomorrow so we can look like we're doing our jobs, then have somebody run it back to him. Our evidence locker is overflowing enough without some gadget that will never serve any purpose."

The centaur nodded, saying things like "Very good, sir" and "Will do, Commander" as he exited, and waited until he was safely tucked into his inner sanctum before he heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Things had gone exactly as he'd hoped; sure, he loved having a chance to futz around with the great Artemis Fowl's security measures, but the fun factor diminished greatly once you realized you were running in place. Therefore, why not mend bridges with the human boy? Kelp had a stubborn streak a mile long, so it could have gone either way.

 _At least now we won't end up with Butler heaving hand grenades into Police Plaza,_ he thought glumly as he returned to his droll everyday work.

o o o

"Aren't you out of there yet?"

Artemis shook his head as he scrubbed the shampoo from his hair. "If you take a gander around the apartment proper and see me, then the answer is 'yes'. Otherwise..."

"Hurry up, then, smartass," Holly shouted in mildly amused tones. "Or I'll eat all this rewarmed breakfast and leave you chewing on breath mints."

"Fine, fine."

His mother and Butler still weren't back yet. Truth be told, this was half of the reason he was taking so long to wash up; while his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of their safety, lathering and rinsing took a back seat.

Not that he entirely regretted their absence. It had given him time to enjoy a precious moment with the one he cared most for. Depending on how sound-proof the walls in fairy flats were, perhaps no one was the wiser.

And then after... he still found this to be equally gratifying. Being near her while she was breathing, seeing the fondness in her eyes when she looked at him – or even while sleeping. Having her beside him, happy, safe...

He quickly dressed after finishing the shower, making sure boxers and long-sleeve shirt were in place before he stepped outside. A two-for-one would be wondrous, but a poor choice. Holly had done the same when she showered, making sure her underthings and tank top were on before she came out to retrieve her slacks. A smattering of propriety was in order as long as they lived with others.

"It's ready," she told him. "And getting cold."

"Very good, then," he told her as he buttoned his trousers. "Holly..."

"Hmm?"

"To make certain and avoid later discomfort... you do wish for us to live together, yes?"

Holly looked up from the mini-fridge, from which she had been retrieving some orange juice. "Live together? Artemis, it's kind of belated, isn't it?"

He smiled. "Yes, we truly are at present. And you are dodging the question."

"Yeah." Her finger played lightly across the lid of the container. "I... I think I would, but it's... difficult to see how we'd make that happen."

"Too true. Our situation is not what one would call 'convenient', eh?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but can we not discuss it?" After staring at him for a moment, she dropped her eyes and began pouring the glasses. "It... it kind of hurts."

"Hurts? I don't follow."

"It hurts to talk about it when everything is so up in the air, because, in a way, it rubs it in. That the arrangement we have is a house of cards that might get destroyed by a light breeze."

That drove the point home. "I see. And... I can appreciate your views."

"For now, I'd just rather rejoice in what we  _do_  have," she said with more warmth, replacing the juice in the cooler before stepping around the table to grasp his hands. "You know I hope we can have it better one day. But for now... this is fantastic. Holding it up next to some lofty goal almost cheapens it, like this isn't good enough."

"You know that isn't true."

"We both know it." She stood back, pulling at her hair. "Even though I can't help but think about what an insane idea this is, every single hour of every single day, I just... when I think about how you make me feel, and how you look at me, all the trappings fall away, and it's golden."

"We'll find a way," he promised. "Not to peek too far into the future and reflect poorly on the present, but I've never been more certain of anything in my life: we shall conquer all. This connection of ours has made me into a believer."

"Really?" As her hands rested on his chest, pupils twinkling like onyx, she asked, "What is it you now believe?"

"I believe in love at first sight."

She drew back as if burned. For a moment, Artemis was concerned – his mind flew to possible danger scenarios, intruders, shielded LEP officers with guns at his back – but then he realized it was he who had alarmed her. He'd been the first of them to use the dreaded word, one that carried more weight than most in his language.

"I- er, my apologies if that was-"

"Wh... what did you just say to me?" Her throat worked to swallow, but failed. "Artemis..."

It was then they heard something thump against the outside of the building and the spell was broken; a subject to be tabled until later. As one, they started toward the source, spared each other a curious glance, then crossed to the wall.

"You hear that, right?"

"Affirmative," Artemis whispered. "What do you reckon?"

"It sounds like... people, lots of people. It's coming from this crack, right here."

They both pressed their eyes against sections of it for a few minutes, but all they could see was the twists and turns the flaw in the architecture took, some residual light. Meanwhile, what they heard was shouting, almost as if chanting.

"Something transpires below; this is the wall that faces the front."

Holly stood, hand on chin. "It could just be someone's television from upstairs or something, couldn't it?"

Then there was another thump, and a distant sound of glass shattering as the sound waves were muffled by the tiny crack; likely they would have heard nothing without it.

"That's one remarkable telly," Artemis grunted.

"Let's go check it out," she said, slipping into her shoes. "The food will have to wait."

Artemis did the same; she already had the door open when he was still working with his second loafer. In scant seconds, they had descended the stairs and found their way out the front... where they stopped dead, jaws agape.

Dozens of irate citizenry were rallied there, homemade signs held aloft, shouting and jeering and carrying on. Elves, gnomes, dwarfs, goblins, pixies and sprites were all gathered to protest, including a single irate centaur. Most signs were written in Gnommish, a few were written in French or English – these were no more comforting for being in a familiar language, however, because they all conveyed similar messages.

 _"Clean Up Haven,"_ Holly breathed, reading one.

 _"No More Mud,"_ Artemis read from another.

"D'Arvit, those dimwits," she swore under her breath. Then she clutched his arm with so much force that he winced as she cried, "Oh gods, Artemis, look!"

In the center of the throng were Angeline Fowl and Butler. Angeline was wincing, trying to hang back as she reasoned with them to no avail. Butler, of course, was standing stock still, gazing impassively at the onlookers, but Artemis and Holly knew the man well enough by now to spot his tells: the throbbing at his temples, the twitch of his itchy trigger finger. The instant someone advanced, made any move to harm Mrs. Fowl, that someone would end up with an extra orifice they hadn't requested.

"There's the other maggot!"

Instantly, everyone was turning in their direction, chanting the same inscrutable refrain; Artemis could catch the words "Mud" and "Haven" but their cadence was so haphazard that it was the best he could pick out. Finally, a villainous-looking old dwarf motioned for silence – which he never got, but the noise level died down.

"These Mud Men are infesting our city!" he thundered. "Draining our resources, enjoying our way of life with not so much as a consequence! We've all got our own problems, why should we have to put up with their encroachment?"

The crowd took up cheering, and Artemis's gorge roiled. In his brief life, only once before had he felt so ill; when a similar gathering of short-sighted fools had taken it upon themselves to hunt so-called "useless" species to extinction, and overly enjoyed themselves along the way. Here was more idiocy from narrow-minded bigots with too much free time and not enough scruples.

"Please, calm down!" Holly called over their heads in practiced tones; every LEP officer had been forced to suffer crowd-control at least once in their tenure. "All of you should go back to your homes before we end up with-"

"And here we have the  _traitor!"_  the dwarf bellowed; several of his co-conspirators echoed the label, shaking clenched fists. "One of our own, a decorated member of law enforcement – and she slinks around with these dirty beasts!"

As they booed and hissed, Holly had a hard time recovering enough to talk again. Artemis didn't blame her; having anyone speak to you that way was akin to being sucker-punched directly in the gut.

The dwarf smiled a grim smile, enjoying his moment in the spotlight. "But she's not with the LEP anymore. Through her association with this filth, she has been removed from being one of those deemed worthy to serve and protect! And why shouldn't she be? If she sides with the enemy, how much would she  _really_  protect her own kind?"

Artemis spent the duration of this man's long-winded rantings memorizing faces. To be sure, the words were distressing and infuriating, but he knew his talents could be far better put to use in remembering what each and every instigator looked like. Then, perhaps, the LEP could use his information. And if they wouldn't, then he was apt to use it himself.

"Fairies, please!" This came from the single uniformed officer whom had just arrived on foot from his nearby post, having spotted the disturbance. He was a scrawny lad, perhaps fresh out of the academy. "You're all in violation – you must disband this demonstration before the LEP is forced to declare it a public riot and act according to procedure!"

" _Pooh_ ," a pixie shouted. "You can't do anything; this is a peaceful protest!"

"Yes," their dwarf ringleader agreed. "We've done nothing to so much as break a hair on their muddy heads – which is more than we can say for what they might do to us if given the opportunity!"

"Breaking bottles against the wall is an act of vandalism," the cop went on. "It's not a peaceful protest if you continue to-"

But the roar of the protestors rose to drown out the rest of the young officer's words. None of them attacked or threw another bottle, but they also refused to part and let Artemis's loved ones pass; the two humans were surrounded. Butler's jaw worked in irritation. He sorely desired to begin ramming skulls together, but was bridling himself until it became absolutely essential he protect either his principal or the other two innocents he felt responsible for.

"Now," the dwarf thundered – and Artemis marveled at his lung capacity. "We shall be heard. This is not the newest Mud frontier for them to purloin out from under our very feet, oh no! Haven is ours, and no longer will we tolerate the comings and goings of the species that hunted us from our homelands, drove us underground! The Mud Men  _must go!"_

 _"Enough!"_ To Artemis's shock, it was Holly who had screamed it into the noonday air. "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, chattering like gossiping dipsticks! They're only here so one of them can be treated for Atlantis Complex!"

"Which means he's crazy, just like all the other Mud Men!"

"It's a  _fairy condition,_ " she hollered over their renewed jeers. "He cannot be treated by human doctors, and it's the sole reason he's in Haven! All you have to do is wait for a week-"

"We will  _not!"_  The dwarf pounded the post of his sign into the ground to emphasize his point. "They should not have been here in the first place – they shouldn't know of this city whatsoever! They have plenty of their own mud-holes to wallow in on the surface; let them stay there!"

"There's no point in arguing it, because the law has already agreed-"

 _"Mudlover!"_ yelled a sprite, and several took up the chant. As it grew in decibels and intensity, Holly's face contorted with rage, and her fists curled. Artemis knew he must do something before she launched herself into their ranks, provoking an international – no, inter- _species_  incident.

"Very well!" Artemis spoke over their heads. This brought about an uncertain lull in the noise. "Should I and my fellows take our leave of your fairy city, never to return, will you concede to cease these mindless chantings and guarantee that Captain Short remains unmolested?"

"I hear it's too late for that!" one of the gnomes remarked.

"That's right," an elf with a pencil-thin mustache agreed, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "I've heard those rumors, too."

"What do you mean, Brother?" the dwarf asked; it wasn't entirely obvious whether or not he was already aware of the rumor, as he was so authentically curious that no one could have told without benefit of a lie detector. "Rumor?"

"I heard she's a little too...  _fond_  of one of those Mud Men," the elf responded, taking so much sick pleasure from his role in the proceedings that Artemis saw Butler's lip curl in disgust. "That they meet up all over the city. That they spend nights together. That they're... a  _coupling."_

"Gods!" the dwarf cried with near-comical surprise. "What a crime against nature  _that_ would be. If there's any truth in it, of course." And now, for his main attraction; he turned toward Holly, hands on hips, and shouted, "What say you, Madam? Are you all dewy-eyed over one of those things?"

Holly was vibrating with so much poorly-contained fury that she began to flicker in and out of the visible spectrum, her shield activated unconsciously. "The  _persons_  I do and do not associate with fall well outside the realm of what may or may not be your concern, Sir. You'd be wise to remember this."

"Oh, really?" he crowed. "Sounds like a 'yes' to me!"

Everyone began laughing or booing, some taking up the "Mudlover" chant anew. Artemis was so astounded he could not find his voice again. He wanted to scream at them, to defend Holly or condemn the masses, but what could he say? So much hate and prejudice blackened their hearts that no words from the enemy would do a whit of good in this instance.

Just as he was debating the soundness of telling Butler to pick up his mother and wade through the throngs, a lone bottle sailed over their heads and knocked into the doorway. Unfortunately, its journey did not end there in a shower of glass shards. No, it somehow miraculously bounced off instead of disintegrating, then fell in slow motion downward...

Landing on Holly's head. Then its uncanny resilience ran out and it did shatter, and blood sprayed her, Artemis, and the front row of rioters. She crumpled like a paper crane.

Instantly, the crowd was a frenzy. In two quick steps, Butler had the pixie who had thrown it by the neck, and seven fairies swarmed him, attempting to secure their compatriot's release. The LEP youngster began firing warning shots at their feet, backing toward Angeline, as he correctly assessed that she was in the most danger at the center of the crowd; the two or three that had been creeping up on her for "easy pickings" backed off when they realized how likely they were to be arrested for inadvertently assaulting an officer.

" _SILENCE!"_ Artemis screamed, and a blanket of quietude fell over the gathering. For a long moment he sat there with Holly in his arms, eyes flitting between the blue sparks attempting to seal her cut and the various faces watching the both of them. "You ignorant simpletons! If you're so righteously up in arms over Mud Men being in your metropolis, if you hate what we've done to your kind so much, then how do you explain what  _you've_  just done to your  _own?"_

Somehow, the sight of the Mud Boy's tears sliding down his cheeks as he cradled the elf, wiping away the blood with his sleeve and whispering what words of comfort he could muster, doused all the fire in the gathering. Perhaps this was for the best; as the elves and gnomes shuffled awkwardly, unsure of their next move, five more LEP officers showed up – headed by Commander Kelp himself.

"Well, well, well," he shouted, arms folded as he took in the scene, only briefly lingering on Holly's crimson-soaked shirt. "I made it to the party after all. How many arrests would you like me to make today, ladies and germs? There's plenty of room in Howler's Peak for all of you."

Everyone froze, afraid to move for fear of being the first hauled away to a night behind bars. Fear kept everyone in check; fear of the badge, fear of the Mud Men. Finally, Butler cleared his throat. "Here's your attacker," he said, shoving the pixie between two cops. "The rest were merely exercising their right to free speech. Unless I misunderstand the laws down here."

Kelp took a slow look around, actually resting his Neutrino on his shoulder in a casual manner. "That right, Burroughs? Just a... friendly little show-and-tell?"

"Absolutely, sir," fumbled the dwarf who had been so pious a few minutes earlier. "Speaking out, making our feelings known, that's all."

"They're probably known by now," Trouble snapped. "So  _beat it!"_

No one needed to be told more than the once; all protesters except the pixie in custody scattered, seeming to vaporize into the ether. Once the officers had booked the attacker, Kelp rushed to Artemis and Holly.

"She looks pretty banged up," he admitted, only now sounding any less calm. "Do we need medi-warlocks up here?"

"I'd prefer that," said Artemis, breath ragged as he cradled her face between both hands. "The sparks have ejected all the glass and she's healing up, but... I can't- there was so much, that I wouldn't feel-"

"Easy, kid," Trouble soothed as he brushed his thumb over the thin cut that still oozed blood slowly. "Can't tell if she was running hot before all this or not. We'll get the warlocks on the way to be on the safe side. Don't give out on me, Short – not yet. Newt!"

And then he was off, shouting orders and berating anyone who presented a welcome target in the face of his anxiety. Butler and Angeline joined the two of them.

"She's... going to be all right, isn't she?" Angeline said in hushed tones, hands at her own throat as if she were the one in peril.

Artemis didn't know how to answer her. He couldn't answer it to himself. All he could make himself do was rock back and forth, squeezing her hand.

o o o  _END Chapter Ten_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yyyeah, OW. If you think I'm sensationalizing... maybe I am. But sometimes people get hurt during hateful riots and "peaceful" protests... bystanders get arrested, convicted and sentenced when they were only on the way to the store for a Perrier. Luck runs both ways.
> 
> I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for this update being a day tardy... and in advance in case it tends to happen quite a bit over this following week. I'm orchestrating a grand move of all my worldly possessions over a vast expanse... and it's going very, very badly. I'm sitting at this computer after The Day That Made Me Cry, running on four hours of sleep and a toaster pastry, rationalizing that I'm wasting my scant free time on FFnet because my readers have suffered enough. So please be gentle with me, for at the moment I am extremely fragile.
> 
> NEXT: "Recuperation" ...and the media.


	11. Recuperation

**HAVEN GENERAL HOSPITAL; NOW**

The lights seemed painfully bright when Holly's eyes fluttered open. Couldn't somebody have installed a dimmer switch? Would that be too much to ask for? But as she gradually shook the vestiges of sleep, she remembered that she shouldn't be anywhere with such glaring institutional lighting. Slowly, she eased her head upward... and was rewarded with a pounding behind the temples that drove a grunt of dissatisfaction from her gut.

"You're awake," said the sweetest voice in the world from her left. "Thank God – you had me on tenterhooks!"

"Arty," she managed to breathe, smiling. Even while in gripping agony, he made her smile. "What's... D'Arvit, my head..."

"I'm afraid it won't be much better anytime soon," he sighed as she slowly focused on his face; it looked yet more drawn and pale than usual, which was astonishing. "The medical warlocks assure me you will suffer no long-term side effects due to your own magic working its wonders before they could administer their own treatments, but the headache can only be lessened until it subsides on its own."

His hand was in hers, and she gripped it so hard she saw him wince.  _Too bad, Mud Boy,_  she thought.  _It's so much more important to me that I feel you here..._

"Where's your mum, and Butler?" she asked aloud. "They did make it through alright, didn't they?"

"Of course," he reassured her, slight color returning to his pallid complexion as her return to consciousness and lucidity bolstered his flagging spirits. "They're outside, in the visitor's lounge. The nurses only permitted one of us in at a time, and they both deemed me the better choice."

"I think we all know why." Her lip quivered. "After all this crap, I'm sure they do."

Artemis nodded, dropping his eyes. "Yes, I agree; Mother isn't so heedless that she'd still be unaware of the nature of our link to one another. Not with me carrying on like an actor in a soap opera, your head in my lap."

"You went to pieces, huh?" she snickered weakly. But she didn't let go of his hand, so he only smiled with slight embarrassment. "What hit me? The last few seconds kind of... well, y'know."

"The offender – a pixie by name of Wonton Des Regart – is sticking to his claims that he wasn't aiming for you, and that the blow was a complete accident. Doesn't mean I'm not fully prepared to allow Butler to do as he wishes."

"And what does he wish?" But then a few horrifying mental pictures of retribution flashed through her mind, and she hurriedly hissed, "Nevermind, just... don't do that. Please. There's been enough bloodshed."

"As you wish, fair maiden."

Holly's lips pursed. "Well, Orion, when Artemis gets back can you tell him I missed him, even though he  _promised_ to cut that out?"

"Sorry," he laughed.

"Mind if I crash the party?"

Both of them were startled to see Trouble Kelp standing the doorway, helmet in his hands. Speaking of hands...

"Fine," Holly whispered as she withdrew her own from Artemis's, folding her arms over her chest. "Citizens like us can't stop the boys in green from doing their duty, can we?"

"I deserve that." After a few more awful seconds of silence, he walked in, dropping his helmet in an empty chair. "How you feeling, kid?"

"You... are not  _that_  much older than me," she bristled. "And what do you want, anyway? I thought you'd be gloating. You told me hanging around Artemis too much was too weird, and now I'm paying the piper."

"Stow that sentiment, Captain. You and I know full well that something like this... it's nothing a superior ever wishes on his men."

"Not all of your men are  _men,_ " Holly shot at him, ignoring the hammering in her skull because she was too angry to let it impede her. "Or maybe now they are. Maybe now you no longer have to worry about female officers, since you've fired the highest-ranking one. Lower Elements Police can be a good ole boys' club again, right, Trubs?"

"I'm the one that got you promoted to Recon in the first place!" he protested.

"You did. You also canned me because you couldn't keep your nose out of my personal affairs. Or was that just an excuse to correct the LEP's mistake of hiring a girl?"

Trouble's eye twitched as he struggled to reign in the growing anger. "I deserve that, too. Now, are you done, or are you ready to allow me to tear up your resignation and get back to work?"

Holly snorted. "Why would I work for a jackass like you?"

"Because I'm a jackass that's sorry. I'm... sorry, Holly." He let out a blast of air that left him looking even more dejected and humbled than before. "Rumors should never be enough to make me question the motives of one of our finest Recon jocks. And you're right, I was totally out of line for trying to call you on it."

"Keep going."

"Keep- listen, you ingrate, I'm trying to give you your freaking job back! Make this much harder and you'll be laid up in the hospital and  _still_ unemployed!"

With a slight glance toward Artemis, Holly shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe that's for the best. Can't have a  _Mudlover_  working for the LEP, anyway."

"Not fair," Artemis put in, unable to stay quiet on that front. "For your own sake, I don't want to hear such bilge come out of your mouth again. It's... reprehensible."

"The brat's got a point," Trouble said, trying not to meet Artemis's eyes. "Whatever our misgivings about Mud Men, there's no such policy that allows for outright hatred and slander."

"Yeah?" Holly hissed. "I'm surprised you weren't right out there with them, after the way you all but told me I was an abomination just for having dinner and drinks with a human. You tried to trick me into feeling  _ashamed_  and  _disgraced._  Over my choice in friends, Trouble! Nobody gets to do that, not you, not anybody. If he could see how you're running things... Julius would be ashamed himself."

Everyone in the room digested this for a while, the quiet beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the tiny cubicle. Then, Trouble cleared his throat and began in a gruff tone, "If you're waiting for me to become Haven's leading supporter of the Mud Men, you've got a long wait, Short. But I am prepared to admit I made a poor choice-"

_"Stupid."_

"I made a  _stupid_  choice," he allowed, "when I trash-talked you just for hanging out with Fowl. Maybe he's the enemy, maybe he's not. But he can't be beyond redemption if a level-headed, exemplary soldier like you sees some good in him."

Holly nodded slightly. "Is that it?"

"No." Trouble glanced over at the blinds as he continued. "Dislike me all you want, but we need you back on the force. Specifically because things like this can happen; if our own fairies start getting it into their heads that they can rally around some hate-fueled cause and chuck bottles at protected citizens and visiting aliens, we need all hands on deck. This city will go to Limbo in a hand-basket if I give up on our best officers."

"And?"

"And... I was fantastically out of line, and I promise it will never happen again." Trouble smiled tightly. "And that's about all you're going to get out of me, so either take back your badge or stay up there on your high horse with no job."

They held a cold staring contest for minutes longer than Artemis would have believed possible, but he did not intervene. Finally, Holly gave a slight smile and said, "I'm not withdrawing my complaint from IA, you know."

"Fine," he grunted. "Pretty much brought that on myself."

"Fine. I'll report first thing tomorrow."

Trouble's eyes widened. "The hell you will. You are on leave until a clean bill of health crosses my desk, Captain."

"Seconded," Artemis said tersely, and Holly glanced at him; the expression on his face brooked no argument.

 _"Ugh,"_ she burst out in frustration. "Surrounded by over-protective male ego! It's enough to make a lady heave."

Artemis and Commander Kelp exchanged an amused glance; perhaps the first and last. Then Trouble was glaring at him, and Artemis was glaring back. None shall know what words might have been traded, because Angeline chose that moment to knock on the door.

"Excuse me," she whispered, "but if dear Holly is awake, I wondered if I might have a word with her and my son? Alone?"

"Of course, Ma'am," Trouble said amenably. "Just leaving. Oh, and Captain..."

"Yessir?"

"Foaly and a few of the boys asked me to pass along their 'get well soon' sentiments. I add my own into that."

For the first time since he'd entered the room, Holly gave him something close to a real smile – though still laced with a hint of venom. "Pass my thanks back along to all parties."

The commander retrieved his helmet and exited, and Angeline took the now-empty chair. Artemis and Holly were still exchanging a relieved smile that the meeting with her boss-turned-ex-boss-turned-boss had gone so well when Mrs. Fowl clapped her hands and whispered, "So. What say we get that pesky elephant out of the room to begin with and bring up the topic of your relationship?"

Artemis's heart plummeted. "Must we?"

"Oh, we really must. Mothers seldom appreciate being lied to. Such as, 'Oh, I've no idea how this girl came to be in my bed – she must have grown there from a seedling in the night!'  _Really."_

"That was no falsehood," Artemis insisted, trying to ignore the prickling heat and droplets of sweat that made it so hard to form coherent sentences. "It's not as if- please, she really did appear- not to say from thin air, but when I fell asleep there were certainly no elves in my bedroll, I can assure-"

"We're together, Mrs. Fowl," Holly sighed, ceding defeat without reservation. As a trained policewoman, she could spot a hopeless battle coming a mile away and respond accordingly. She took Artemis's hand again, both as external proof and to steady herself for this confrontation. "For about a week now. And, well, I'm sorry neither of us said anything. But as I'm sure you saw, there are... reasons."

"So this has only been going on for a week?"

"Yes." Holly's cheeks deepened in color. "Only... okay, so we had a brief, er,  _moment_  about a year back – during your unfortunate run-in with Opal. But we kind of swept it under the rug from then to now. Neither of us were ready to deal with it then."

"Artemis?" she questioned, arms folding as she sat back, eyes wide. "Have you contracted laryngitis, perhaps?"

"No, Mother," was all he could bring himself to mutter.

"I know what you're going to say," Holly blurted, eyes watering. "That... we're from two different worlds – literally. He's too young for this, and I'm too old for him even if he isn't. We barely have anything in common, the height difference, long-distance issues once you return to Ireland. Oh, and that new complication that the entire city thinks we're heathens and deviants."

Angeline nodded slowly as she listened. "All good points that are to be given careful consideration, but not by me. Those are worries you'll have to deal with yourselves. I have but two concerns. One: do I need worry about being lied to again?"

"Of course not," Artemis said immediately. "Not about this. I can only do so much to change my nature, but this... it is what it is."

"Which brings me to my second concern." She stood, causing her figure to become vastly more imposing, and locked her eyes onto Holly's mismatched ones. "If I give my blessing, that means I must feel I can implicitly place my son's welfare in your hands. Is there any reason – any at all – that I shouldn't? And remember, my first concern is that I can accept your words as truth to begin with, so lying to me at this juncture would be a towering mistake indeed."

Holly was amazed to realize she was scared. She was actually genuinely terrified of this woman – and she understood instinctively that this wasn't a baseless fear. But the questions were not ones she had to debate before answering. "No. There's no reason whatsoever. I... I love your son, Mrs. Fowl." When Artemis's fingernails dug into her sensitive flesh, she turned to him and blearily whispered, "Somehow, I'm pretty sure I always did."

"Holly..."

Sensing that, by trying to ensure their courtship was not a gross error in judgement, Angeline Fowl had inadvertently caused them to jarringly shift much closer much sooner than either of them were prepared for, she merely nodded curtly and said, "Well, that's that, isn't it? If you'll excuse me, I must check on Butler."

And she left, only allowing herself one brief, thunderstruck eyeful of what was going on between her son and this mythical creature from an underground city. Mind sufficiently boggled, she closed the door behind her.

"Did you mean that?" he whispered. "Because... if you only wanted to play it up in front of my mother, to quash her insecurities, I'll not hold it against you, of course. I wouldn't dream of taking your words at face value. Not  _these_ words."

"They're only words, Artemis," she hedged, face a deep scarlet. "All they can do is illustrate feelings that were already there. So, if you could be so kind, don't rub my face in them?"

"But you said them. You said you love me."

Holly's breath caught in her throat. Her head swam as she fought to keep control of the situation, to process this newest development before she attempted to face it as her decades of training dictated she should, but this time she was completely out of her depth. "I d-did, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry," he rushed ahead, both hands clasping her one. "I'm forcing the topic, and you're on the mend. This can be left until-"

"Quit babbling and kiss me, Artemis."

It was a request he hadn't the will to refuse.

o o o

As one might expect, the noisy encounter outside the building the two Fowls and one Butler were calling home made fairy headlines. Opinions remained divided throughout Haven and Atlantis. Many news programmes capitalized on it, interviewing scores of citizens and receiving mixed reactions, all worth sending out on the airwaves to hopefully catch a higher number of viewers than the other networks doing the very same thing.

"It's a crime against nature," one Atlantean mother of two commented. "I can't understand why any fairy would put themselves in danger by associating with those brutes. Don't we have enough problems?"

"The People have turned a blind eye for too long," ranted a gnome. "We must stamp out any ties to any Mud Men, or soon they'll all be on our doorstep, herding us into the same reservations they once put their own fellows on. The Mud Man history too many of us ignore is all the evidence we need."

"What's the big deal?" remarked a pixie youth with tattoos on her face. "The establishment force-feeds us this tired old 'Mud Men drove us underground' crap, but weren't we _all_  fighting each other? Holding a grudge against the current generation because we're the ones who lost some senseless war is so... petty. Grow up."

"My great-uncle died at Tailke," said an elderly centaur in a hollow voice, eyes far away. "Never forget. Never forget what they took from us. They cannot be our allies."

"I happen to know the LEP Captain in question," commented another dwarf as he downed generous helpings of vole curry. "And the Mud Boy. They're decent folk who have done more for our kind than anyone else would dare tell you; the People would be exposed or pushing up daisies long before now without their services rendered. As for one of them being human... well, nobody's perfect!"

And so it went. After what was probably far too long a delay, the media made the connection between the Mud Man and his treatments for his psychological condition and went after Jerbal Argon himself. The doctor politely refused interviews again and again, despite his love of the cameras; he would rather not discuss the Fowl boy if he could help it. Finally, however, he responded – not out of desire, but sheer aggravation.

"I have told you all time and time again that I am not permitted to discuss the mental state of a patient – former, current, or even future! He is a patient, I have treated him, and have no further comment! I shall not divulge the details of our sessions, I shall not cash in on his current strife! Now, if you will kindly-"

"But isn't there  _anything_  you have to say?" the reporter asked desperately, unwilling to be just another girl with a press pass turned away by the tight-lipped psychiatrist. "An opinion on the predicament in which he and his LEP friend find themselves, on their unholy tryst?"

Argon stood in his doorway, hand firmly on the inner half of the knob, intending to slam it closed in her face. After a moment's internal debate, however, he flashed the reporter a wicked smile. "Very well, then. I do have something to say. I think the media attention something so basic as a friendship is garnering is atrocious. I think young Master Fowl is undeserving of such hostile attitudes, regardless of his race, and the good captain even less so. Also, it would be in the best interests of fairy-kind to keep their blinking noses out of it before their consuming need to destroy all things Mud-related invariably leads our  _own_  society down the path of the Roman Empire. And  _that,_  my dear, you can print."

This enraged outburst went on to hold the distinction of being Dr. Argon's most widely-published words, overshadowing his every submission to the various fairy medical journals. He would later greatly regret saying it, even if he didn't regret the words themselves. Shouting down a lone reporter was not the legacy he'd hoped to leave behind.

o o o

"Afternoon, Des Regart. How's tricks?"

The pixie glowered at the elf entering the interrogation room. "Ain't got nothing more to say to you today than I did yesterday, Commander."

"Fine," Commander Kelp said, setting down his cup of sim-coffee as he got comfortable in the folding chair across the table from his suspect. "We can keep each other company. I've got nowhere better to be."

"You really don't have much of a life, do you?"

"Nope."

A few minutes passed in silence as the two fairies played the waiting game. Neither wanted to give the other an inch, to admit defeat. But Des Regart was getting antsy. They hadn't booked him yet, so he couldn't truly begin serving whatever sentence they handed down until the LEP got on the ball. And from the look of things, they were in no hurry whatsoever.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Kelp? Making me sweat it out."

The man smiled tightly. "Every job has its perks."

"How can you sit there, acting so high and mighty, when by allowing me to be arrested you're basically  _defending_  the Mud Men? And that traitor you fired."

"Temporarily suspended. She's back on the force, you know."

Wonton felt his jaw drop, and was instantly angry with himself for reacting so strongly; it showed weakness. "You let a  _jaidmot_  back in the LEP? Knowing what she's doing with that human scum?"

"We need the manpower," Kelp said with a shrug. "Why, you got somebody in mind you want to recommend over her? This I gotta hear."

"Any fairy with a pulse," he muttered.

"Oh, yeah, that's helpful. I'll just start interviewing every single citizen and hope I come across one with half the field qualifications of Holly Short. The paperwork all that would entail alone is enough to keep her in the badge."

"What do you want from me? I threw the bottle at the Mud Boy, and I didn't really even mean to hit him. Too bad your Mudlover Recon jock took some friendly fire, but you can't mean to lock me up for an accident."

Kelp leaned in, eyes frosty while he continued smiling. "Can, will, am. How much do you think I care if you get slighted? Making sure angry protesters who like to break glass get humane treatment isn't our top priority. But, as we both know, this can all go away in a heartbeat."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me. I'm not going to buckle under pressure like you think I am. I'm made of tougher stuff.."

"Just the names, Des Regart. Ringleaders, informants. The dirt. Then you're out with a slap on the wrist for aggravated assault; a free man."

"How many times to I have to tell you before it takes? I will not – will  _not_ sell out my brothers!"

"Brothers, huh? Funny, because if I had a group of people I called 'brothers', I'd expect to see a few of them in here, trying to spring me, at least bring me a nice fruitcake. You haven't had a single visitor since you got here, Wonton. How about that?"

It wasn't as if Wonton hadn't been thinking along the same lines. How dare they leave him high and dry? Commander Kelp laying it out for him in black and white only rubbed salt in the wound.

"Complete anonymity," Kelp offered again. "None of them will find out from us that you squealed. It's up to you if you think you can lie your way out of it when they turn the blame on you. But if you stay mum on the subject, you'll be taking the fall while they sit around getting fat off stir-fried stinkworm ears."

Des Regart licked his lips. "Ohh, I love stir-fry. Hardly ever have enough money to order it, though..."

"Stick to your guns and protect a bunch of people who probably don't remember you exist, and it'll be months before you so much as catch a whiff of stinkworm juice. They don't serve high-end delicacies like that at Howler's Peak."

It was a despicable one-two punch, tempting him with the benefits of freedom, then threatening him with the downsides of incarceration. And it worked like a charm.

"Give me that data pad."

o o o  _END Chapter Eleven_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of you may not agree, but I think Holly got her great revenge. Trubs made her feel embarrassed about something that she shouldn't, and she told him that the superior whom they both respected would not approve of his replacement. That's hitting him where it REALLY hurts.
> 
> NEXT: Artemis reveals a little something that may startle you. Hmm!


	12. Revitalization

**OUTSIDE HAVEN GENERAL HOSPITAL; THE NEXT DAY**

"Can I get out of this stupid thing now?"

"Yes, fine," the orderly snapped. "I've never seen a patient object so strongly to being wheeled out of the hospital – it's standard policy."

"Shove your policy," Holly snapped right back as she heaved to her feet. "It was a tiny scratch on the head; my legs work fine."

"Go easy on the lad," Artemis half-laughed as the orderly retreated at top speed. "Only doing his civic duty."

Holly's face twisted into a scowl. "His duty to hack me off. Look, let's just go back to my apartment and see what's left of it. I need an excuse to move around, get the blood flowing."

"Fine, but just that," he said tersely. "Then we're off to Tara. Tonight's a full moon and you're dangerously low on magic again, I can sense it."

Holly started. "You can sense it? Artemis, that's... what have you been up to while I was on sick leave?"

"Nothing, I assure you," he snickered. "Actually, I've been able to 'sense' magic around me for some time; ever since I briefly acquired a drop of my own. Nothing more than a vague awareness; if they have it, I know. If they don't, then I feel nothing. It is no more intricate than this."

"It's still something you only hear warlocks talking about," Holly muttered as they made their way across the city. "And it is a magic power. Sorry to sound all paranoid, but you did conceal magic from the fairy community once before."

"Want to have No1 probe me and find out?"

"I'll probe you," she threatened in a low voice, and they both smiled. "No, I trust you. Gods help me, I do, so if you say that's the only trick you've got up your sleeve..."

"It is the only  _magically-related_ trick I have up my sleeve," he sidestepped. "I've made many an attempt since our time-traveling misadventures to summon even a single blue spark, coming up dry on every occasion. Rather depressing, to be forthright; I appreciated being able to heal myself."

Holly was thoughtful as they waited for a light to change. "Hmm, I wonder..."

"Yes, dear?"

She tripped over a crack in the pavement, scarcely catching herself before she went down hard in the middle of a busy street. "What did I  _tell-_  Artemis, come on, it isn't 'cute' or 'endearing'!"

"It is both of these," he chuckled easily. "Seeing you flustered flusters me. In all the right ways."

Holly cleared her throat, averting her eyes from him. "Yeah, whatever. Just keep your smooth operating to a bare minimum so I don't have to  _mesmer_  you into submission."

First Artemis laughed as they continued their stroll. After a moment or two, however, he asked, "You wouldn't again, would you?"

"Wouldn't what?"

"Mesmerize me. Not now that we're..."

Holly glanced over at him, more uncomfortable than she wanted to let on. "Not unless it was of dire importance. See? I can skirt the issue as well as you can."

"Because I wouldn't, either," he told her adamantly. "You know... if I had means to do so, which I don't currently. But I want us to be on even footing; no controlling each other, no more blackmail, or using the letter of the law to our personal advantage. No so-called power plays."

"Why are  _you_ , the reformed criminal, preaching this at an LEP captain? Seriously, I'll play nice if you will."

"I'm aware of how nicely you play," he told her suggestively, earning him a kick to the back of his heel, which sent him hobbling for several city blocks. "When you want to," he amended through gritted teeth, making her laugh. "But I think it wise to examine these aspects of our relationship, to establish the ground rules. If we're going to have a prayer, I'd prefer us to ensure we do this right the first time."

Holly giggled self-consciously. "You know, Arty... when you talk about 'we' and 'us' like that, it's almost more romantic than your semi-lewd come-ons."

"I agree. I've never been part of an 'us' before, either."

Holly's apartment was still a shambles; the carpet cleaner Artemis had hired came and went, so the revolting graffiti was no more, but everything else was in a state of disarray. The shiny new door lock, however, was more than enough security for a private dwelling; hopefully they wouldn't have this problem a second time.

It had taken some finagling, but the two of them plus Butler were allowed to take a spare LEP shuttle to the surface – likely because Trouble was enjoying so much guilt that anything he could do to lessen it was a bargain in his eyes. Holly shielded once she exited from Tara, gliding over the Irish landscape toward the south-east coast, and Artemis was struck with a powerful pang of homesickness. In a few short days, he would be able to return for good. But what of he and Holly then? Would their newborn romance survive his exodus?

"Here we are."

"This looks... familiar," Butler remarked, gazing down at the meadow surrounded by dense forest.

Holly smiled faintly. "It should. You bagged and tagged an LEP captain here once. I didn't feel like joining the throngs of tourists at Tara; besides, thought we might reminisce about the good old days."

"Yes, that sounds uplifting," Artemis groused. "Must I keep apologizing for that?"

"Every day of your life, Mud Boy." Then she winced. "Sorry – Human Boy. Doesn't quite have the same ring, though."

They touched down nearby, then piled out of the shielded craft. Butler hung back, eyes sweeping from left to right as the other two travelers approached the massive oak tree beside the flowing waters.

"Have you ever thought?" Artemis breathed, staring up into its branches.

"Yes, I have. About lots of things."

"Cheeky," he accused. "In particular, about chance... fate. Whichever you attribute the quirky turns of luck we experience throughout our lives to."

Holly turned just as she reached the wide trunk. "I don't get it. What crazy coinkydink is bringing this on?"

One hand reached out, and Artemis stared at his fairy communicator as he spoke. "Me, being obsessed with acquiring fairy gold. You, having a depleted magic supply. Butler and I crouched under a sensor-proofed shroud while watching a mythical leprechaun pluck a seed from the earth..."

The corner of Holly's mouth turned up. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tree, hands clasped behind her neck. "You mean, how if you'd been a little less ambitious, and if I'd been more responsible with maintaining my magic levels, we might not be having this conversation right now? That kind of deal?"

"Er, yes," he admitted with a quiet snort. "That kind of 'deal'."

"You think too much." But then she was slipping her arms around his waist. "But if you're entertaining some notion of riding a time tunnel back to that moment and undoing it, don't you dare. I'd be devastated."

"Unlikely; I'm sure you wouldn't remember any of it if I caused it to never have occurred."

Holly frowned, expression warm yet serious. "Actually, this is pretty strong, what we've got brewing. I have a feeling that even if you managed to louse this up and make us forget, we'd find each other again. The hole in my heart wouldn't rest until it found its missing piece."

Butler averted his eyes for the next minute or so. When he turned his head and found he had done so a bit early, he coughed into his fist with more volume than was necessary, and he thanked his maker that it worked.

"Sounds like we're dragging our feet a bit," Artemis gasped as they released.

"This has to be some kind of crime against all that is holy," she hissed, running her hands through his hair, cheeks glowing. "Nobody should be allowed to feel this amazing just from touching another person, it's crazy!"

"Too bad for 'all that is holy' that Artemis Fowl is a career criminal, willing to eradicate any bothersome rule to seize what he desires most."

"Which is me?"

Artemis rolled his eyes as he stepped back from her at last. "Thanks for stealing the punchline and thereby ruining my delivery. Timing is everything."

"Wah, wah, you big baby. Now, I guess we should get this done. Help me?"

"Help you?" he asked as she began searching the ground. "How?"

"I want you to do this with me," she told him, smiling. "Yeah, I know it won't matter, but why not? Soak up a free course in fairy culture."

Artemis shrugged. "I suppose it would take minimal effort. Is there... any special incantation, or-"

"Not really. Just grab your nuts." When his eyebrow raised, she snickered. "That sounds way more inappropriate in English."

"Do tell, Captain."

Soon thereafter, the ship had been reboarded and was coming in for a landing on a grassy field some twenty miles north. This time, Butler stayed in the shuttle, hoping to spare his brain from enduring any more public displays of affection.

"Now," she said, raising her acorn. "If you want to do this right, you'll have to repeat after me – even though the words themselves are ceremonial and unnecessary."

"Lay on, Macduff."

"I return you to the earth," she intoned as she thrust the tiny seed through the soft topsoil. "And claim the gift that is my right."

As you may remember, Artemis has a powerful mind and total recall. Repeating the fairy scripture was no harder for him than picking his nose – which he rarely did, but could with the greatest of ease.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, with increasing frequency, blue sparks began swirling up from the ground and settling into Holly's torso, glowing dully before vanishing. The elf laughed aloud, craning her neck to look up at the bulbous moon overhead. It filled her with such joy that she danced in a circle, arms at her sides as they created slipstreams in the air. This was what it meant to be a fairy.

Then, just as the light-show subsided, she launched herself at him with renewed vigor, legs wrapping around his waist as her lips devoured his, hands clutching at his back. It was almost as if a brand new Holly Short were there in his arms, one filled to bursting with energy – which, perhaps, was the case.

"I love you!" she crowed, unafraid of the words if only for that euphoric moment, her laughter like tinkling bells. "I love that you're here, that  _we_  are here, simmering in the magic!"

"And I love you," he said quietly, though the fluttering in the pit of his stomach made him want to dance as well. So he did, whirling around as he supported her, their noses touching, smiles in Irish and elfin eyes. The more they moved, the more he wanted to move; her energy seemed to be contagious. Never before in his life – save for that very first time she kissed him – had he felt quite this alive.

"We did it," she cackled. "I knew it, I  _knew_  it would work!"

Artemis grinned back at her. "What did we do?"

"We got your magic back." When he merely gaped at her, uncomprehending, she tittered, "You're not the only one who notices stuff; the sparks in your eyes make it hard to ignore. The day you stole a wee nip in the time tunnel was your very last day as a mere Mud Person. Qwan meant it when he said you were forever changed; magic never truly leaves those who have it. But you used all of yours up trying to save your mother."

He leaned back from the elf, which almost made her fall from around his waist. "You... please, forgive my being a touch slow on the uptake, but are you earnestly informing me... that the only reason I've been sparkless for the past year is because  _I didn't complete the sodding ritual?"_

"Mind your tongue," she guffawed as she watched his bewildered expression. "There's a lady present, you know."

Only now did Artemis join her in laughing, and they danced for minutes on end before toppling to the grass, lost in embrace. And as they gazed into each other, as they lay drunk with joy and the influx of fresh power from the earth, Artemis beamed at his friend. She had given him this gift –  _she._  Not just now in returning it to him, but in the time tunnel.

It had to be Holly whom he'd borrowed the initial spark from. The other two companions had been imps, and his power was almost certainly elfin; blue sparks, healing and _mesmer_  only. Yes, Artemis had never been able to shield, but his magic had been so paltry in the days leading up to Opal's possession of his mother that it might only have been ignorance or lack of power. Now, however... think of the possibilities!

No, he wouldn't. He wanted to, but that was the way of darkness; he had made promises to himself, to his family, and to the one he loved. Dr. Argon would be quick to point out that he needn't use them to save mankind – the pesky Messiah Complex he was attempting to avoid while simultaneously staving off the old detriment. But it was best he not do anything truly sinister with this gift, either. Tempting though it would be to use his newfound abilities to rob Fort Knox blind, those days were behind him.

Then again, sneaking past his mother to avoid being reprimanded for being out too late with his lady love might become a less arduous undertaking.

"Why, Holly?" he asked, the joy not having faded from his features. "Why did you give it back to me? I'd have thought it would be the last thing fairykind needed."

"I really don't care," she whispered. "Your being magical shouldn't hurt them in any way; and if they claim it will, they're full of more hot air than a swear toad. Yes, the Artemis Fowl of a few years ago would be slapped with the highest Code Red designation if granted this ability, but that isn't you anymore. Now you're just... you're the man I hold dearest."

That, more than his inner convictions, meant he would strive not to use his magic for self-serving goals. No matter how enticing they were.

o o o

"Something has to be done."

Every fairy around the dirty table in the dimly-lit back room nodded, murmuring their assent as they puffed on fungus cigars and swilled banned alcoholic concoctions. Not a one of them questioned their leader; he embodied every belief they held dear. He was just more proactive about them.

"Be sure to keep your voices down," the proprietor of Chez Cheez hissed as he poked his head through the door that lead into the restaurant proper. "One more lawsuit for playing host to anti-Mud gatherings and I'll be forced out of business."

"We know, we know," grumbled a gnome. "Don't get your bum-flap in a bunch, Gantz."

The head chef's eyes narrowed, but he said no more and returned to berating a poor prep cook for using too much oregano.

"Now then," the sleazy dwarf said. "Where was I before we were so pointlessly interrupted? Ah yes, the Mud-worms and how something must be done. Have you been following this on the news? There are actually a handful of fairies who  _support_  those bloodthirsty cretins! They can feel a shred of sympathy for them, after all their misdeeds! How could we as a People have gone so far astray?" He allowed himself a smirk. "But I do have a few ideas on how we can turn the tides."

"What did you have in mind, Burroughs?" the elf with the thin mustache queried. "Another rally? Or perhaps something more... permanent?"

"Yes, my thoughts exactly, Mr. Daikon. Oh, we needn't kill anyone outright; too heavy-handed. No, no, I have other plans. But it will take careful execution to avoid a catastrophe like Des Regart."

"I heard he got released today," one pixie provided. "Probably couldn't stand to prosecute him over Mud People."

"That's perfect," the dwarf said as his grin widened. "We'll need all the help we can get to pull this off. Alright, listen and listen good..."

o o o

The next day dawned bright and sunny, due to Haven's solar-replicating lamps. Artemis idly wondered if they ever dimmed them to a dull gray to give the impression of overcast skies. Why would they, though? If you could ensure flawless weather every day of your life, it seems masochistic to do otherwise.

As he rolled up the futon, he heard the shower door open behind him and turned to find Holly stepping out, clad in full LEP uniform. It was a welcome sight; though he confessed to enjoying the rest of her wardrobe and the way it complemented her figure, it was oddly comforting to see her back in the greens that her occupation required. All was right with the world once more.

"Sorry to blow out the door so early," she said lightly as she made sure her badge was straight and leapt into her boots. "Duty calls, y'know. I'll try to be home around dinner time."

"Understood. In the interim, shall I sit on the couch and eat bonbons while watching soap operas all day?" When she only raised an eyebrow, he grinned. "Mud joke, pay it no heed."

"Don't you start using the M-word or you'll get me back into the habit." Casting a fleeting look at the kitchenette where his mother and Butler were idly glancing through a magazine about fairy cooking methods, she planted an all-too-brief peck on his cheek before beaming up at him and mouthing the words, "Miss you already."

He gave a slight nod to indicate he concurred, and she was gone before he could blink, no shielding required. It was supernatural how fleet of foot she was.

"I'm going into town, Artemis," Butler told him mildly. "Your mother wishes for me to pick up some ingredients so she can attempt to make some Vegan version of Salmon Hollandaise. Anything in particular you need while I'm out?"

"A book would be nice," he said after a moment. "Any book. I don't care, I just want something to read. My final appointment with Dr. Argon isn't for ages yet, and it's suffocating being trapped in this rat hole day after day without any source of mental stimulation other than CNN's website."

"I'll see what I can turn up." Butler hesitated. What was going on inside that mammoth skull of his? "Best of luck."

"Eh?" But Butler was leaving already, a curt nod of his head his only form of farewell. The moment he was out the door, and Artemis realized he was alone with his mother, he understood why his bodyguard had felt luck to be necessary.

"Very good," Angeline said briskly, joining him in the main area. "You've had a couple of days to stew, as have I."

"Mother-"

"There's little point in trying to weasel your way out of it. It is a time for discussions now, not for delaying discussions."

Artemis folded his arms across his chest, wishing he had already showered and dressed instead of holding such an important tête-à-tête in pyjamas and disheveled hair. "From my point of view, we've already had this discussion. With Holly, in the hospital room."

"That was my initial pre-discussion, didn't you know? A mother is allowed to revisit the issue with her underage son."

 _Thank all the patron saints for that time tunnel spitting me out three years later,_ he thought to himself. "Legally, I am of age. Which means I could simply move out, spare myself this headache. I am an adult in an adult relationship."

"You are not!" she snapped, eyes popping. "How innocently unaware do you think I am? One look at the pair of you tells me you're blundering into some whirlwind romance that neither of you are properly equipped to weather! At least your friend had common sense enough to admit that!"

"Mother, come now, this isn't-"

"How old is she, exactly? Thirty? Thirty-five?"

Artemis gulped. This wasn't going to be viewed in its proper light as long as his mother was already upset with him, so he decided that telling her 'my guess is somewhere between eighty and one hundred' wouldn't win him any points. "I'm not sure. It's impolite to ask a woman her age, you know."

"Really?" she said scathingly. "As I've never been a woman and wouldn't know. For Heaven's sake, Artemis!"

"Are you sincerely going to give me the parental advice that I should allow twaddle like age and race to sway my decision? To get so caught up in meaningless societal constructs and bigotry that I lose my chance to be truly happy?"

"Happiness is... so fleeting," she told him, a worry line appearing in her brow. "Neither of you seem to be prepared for what will happen once your treatment is complete. You'll be gone from here, Arty. Back to Ireland, back to Fowl Manor and your father and brothers. And she will be here, and heartbroken. This is emotional suicide you're committing."

"Then let me," he implored. "It's all I want in the world.  _She_  is all I want; all I ever have. And believe you me, this isn't some nursery school infatuation that will dissipate simply because it's Thursday, oh no. I've been slowly but surely falling in love with her for three years of my life. It is worth everything to me to do what I can to preserve that love, nurture it."

Angeline paled, sinking down onto the couch as she clasped at her chest. "Everything, you say. Then what  _does_  happen when you're gone from Fairyland? What, my boy genius, becomes of your nurtured love?"

Artemis nodded glumly. "Honestly? I haven't the faintest idea. But whatever I have left of our partnership at that time is ultimately worth it, even if it's a shambles. The mere ruins of a love this potent and genuine would be worth all the gold in the world."

This stunned her. Artemis had thought the doomed relationship through all the way to its demise, if that's where they ended up – and still he wanted it. Still he was willing to risk everything to own however much of it he was allowed, even over the riches he'd coveted so strongly scant months ago. Had anyone she'd known in all her days felt that way about anyone else?

 _Yes,_  came the niggling answer in the corner of her mind.  _You're guilty of that yourself. About one Artemis Fowl the First._

"That's wonderful, then," she said in defeated tones. "You'll just shack up with the elderly pixie policewoman for the next few days, deluding yourselves, then move away and leave her to pick up the splinters. It's the stuff of Shakespeare."

"There'll be no 'happy daggers' in this scenario, Mum," he told her, adding the endearment as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "If the fates truly are against this, then I'll accept it when the finale comes. Until then... I am enjoying the ride most extremely."

Angeline frowned up at him. "Please don't misunderstand me. It isn't that I dislike Miss Short; quite the contrary. She's a charming woman with a beautiful soul. And therefore..."

"Therefore, seeing her hurt would be almost as torturous as seeing me hurt," he finished for her with a light nod. "Your concerns are... appreciated, and touching. Nevertheless, I must make this mistake alone, heedless of those likely-judicious concerns."

"Yes, I see that now. Do me one favor, if you will?"

"Hmm?"

"If  _she_  should be the one to break  _your_  heart... give me permission to despise her with unabashed umbrage."

"Don't be silly," he grunted. "I won't have that, not in a million years. Not least because... I'm sure if one of us ruins this, it will be me and not her. Nothing Holly Short could do on this plane of existence might be characterized as malicious or underhanded; it isn't her way. But you knew that already."

A subdued nod. "A beautiful soul. Like a prism in a sunbeam."

"Snatched the words directly from my mouth. And it is now time for my morning exercises, so if you'll pardon my rudeness..."

And pardon him she did. Personal opinion held no sway over her son; in her heart, she'd accepted that the minute she became suspicious of the true nature of their friendship. Artemis Fowl the Second wasn't going to let anyone else dictate his destiny any time soon. And even if he did, just this once, it was asinine and cruel to try and drive them apart out of fear for the consequences of failing to do so. The person who stands in the way of true love is a vile beast, indeed, no matter their intentions. However, Angeline couldn't so neatly dismiss the gut feeling that storm clouds were on the horizon.

 _Dearest Arty,_  she thought as he began doing sit-ups,  _I pray with every fibre of my being that neither you nor your elfin paramour are standing under a tree when lightning strikes._

o o o  _END Chapter Twelve_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charged-up Artemis! Who'da thunk? Yes, I'm sure lots of fic authors have gone there previously, but I found myself SO disappointed in Time Paradox when he used up all his magic. Why can't Artemis be fae-by-association? Small taste of what's coming in the conflict between starcrossed lovers and bigoted fairies, and a good scene with Angeline's doubts and worries. This chapter was a little scattered, but I like how it turned out regardless.
> 
> NEXT: Someone is set up to take a fall...


	13. Trepidation

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

Butler checked and double-checked the contents of his shopping basket. All items for Mrs. Fowl had been acquired. Now to see about reading material for his principal.

It took him a few minutes to locate a fairy bookstore; so much of their information and recreational reading was digital that they seemed to have little to no use for the printed word anymore. Still, there remained a single bookstore that kept itself well-stocked, and after a few hours he stumbled upon a tome on fairy history that he hoped Artemis would find enlightening – or at least amusing for a few hours. On a whim, he also picked up a fantasy fiction title about a young Mud Man who used his clubs and sticks to pull pranks on older Mud Persons. That would surely earn a cheap laugh.

The cashier first gaped at the human customer, unable to grasp Butler's question of how much the books were the first four times. On the fifth, the squat gnome nodded, accepted some gold and gave him change, and nodded again.

 _Perhaps she is mute,_  Butler decided reasonably. Though he wouldn't have bet on it.

On his return trip to the Fowl apartment, he noticed he was being followed. This neither shocked him nor caught him off guard – for 'off guard' was a state he seldom permitted himself. However, he was unprepared for what happened a minute later as he came to an alley entrance.

"Stay back!"

Butler blinked. There was an elf woman there holding a solitary loaf of bread, her eyes wide, lip quivering. And she was staring at him, watching him come toward her. When he came within a few feet of her, she squeaked, and he stopped short.

"Beg pardon?"

"Y-you stay away from me!" she whispered now, visibly shaking. Her purple hat slid from atop her head, exposing brown ringlets that fell neatly to her shoulders. "I... I don't want to die, not by Mud hands!"

"Ma'am, I haven't the tiniest reason to wish you harm," he said blandly. It was tiresome, being loathed everywhere you went. "Perhaps it would be easiest if I found another route home."

But at the instant he turned to leave, he heard a  _WHACK!_ followed by a  _thump._  When he turned to look at her again, he saw a black-clad fairy of unknown type crouching over the unconscious elf, a length of pipe in its gloved hand. When he saw Butler sizing him up, the fairy darted down the alley.

"Hey!" Butler shouted as he raced the few steps to the alley's entrance. "You! Come back and explain yourself!"

It was no use. The mystery mugger was gone without trace, save for the pipe; he had dropped it in his haste to flee.

"Miss," Butler said quietly as he dropped the basket of belongings, reaching down and shaking her shoulders. "Miss, will you be alright?"

The woman's face was slack and devoid of response, and the blood trickling from within her hair didn't bode well. Butler breathed a sigh of partial relief when he noticed blue sparks playing under her matted locks; she had magic, she would suffer no permanent damage.

Curious, he began to stretch out a hand for the pipe – and held himself fast. Madame Ko's teachings came back to him. He did indeed wish to examine the weapon, but the moment his hand came into contact with it, his prints would find themselves on the evidence. The logical course of action was to find the nearest LEP officer and inform them of the situation.

"Help! Someone, help – one of the Mud Men has gone over the edge!"

This wasn't going to help him appear innocent. Bystanders were gathering with alarming speed, all pointing and gawping, whispering in tight clusters. Ignoring them for now, he peeled the victim's eyelid open.

"Can you hear me?" he hissed. "Do you need a doctor?"

For a brief instant, he noticed something amiss in her iris; the blue stretches of membrane appeared frayed, if not jagged. Then she was sitting up, backpedaling away from him.

"Don't come any closer!" she stammered, clutching the loaf of bread in front of her chest as if it would protect her. "I... I have a family!"

"I'm sure you do," he reasoned, still crouching, palms held up and open; no weapons, no reach for weapons. "As do I. But I was not your assailant."

"B-but I saw you. I saw you coming toward me – and I saw your eyes. Your eyes said you wanted to strike at me!"

"With what? I am unarmed."

She blinked, confused. "With... with that pipe." And she picked up the implement, saw her blood on it. "I didn't see it in your hand, but y-you must have- you hit me with it when I wasn't looking, or something!"

Butler was opening his mouth to reply, but at that moment he heard a nervous voice shout, "Freeze, Mud-bag!"

All too familiar with the cadence and tone of law enforcement, Butler made no further move. "You got it. I've had some practice being packed in ice; I'm good at freezing."

"Perfect," the pixie told him, pulling his arms into the small of his back. "Then you're under arrest for unprovoked assault against a fairy!"

"Firstly," he spoke up as handcuffs encircled his wrists, "I'd like to state that I'm innocent; another fairy was the perpetrator. Then, kindly pick up that basket and bring it with us, as I've parted with gold to purchase those things and they are my rightful property. Next, I'd like a solicitor to meet me at Police Plaza, if you don't mind."

"I think that can be arranged. Now stand up, and no funny business."

 _Believe me,_  Butler thought to himself as he was led away in restraints,  _I don't find any of this the least bit funny._

o o o

Holly Short was lingering in Foaly's operations booth when the call came in.

"Say again?" the centaur yelped in disbelief.

"We've got a Mud Man caught bludgeoning an elf woman," the audio feed told him. "Ajax picked up his belongings and bagged his weapon, it's all on its way in right now; ETA, five minutes."

"Artemis," Holly breathed. "Or is it Butler? Oh, crap crappity crap-crap..."

"Calm down, Holly," Foaly told her kindly, putting a hand to her shoulder. "I think we both know there's something off. But we have to work with the facts we have until we are presented new ones. No use jumping the gun."

Holly nodded, taking a few deep breaths. "You're right, I know; we'll know more when they get here. But I can't help thinking this is going to suck so much harder as it plays out."

So, as one might expect, both Holly and Commander Kelp were waiting in the foyer when Butler was herded in. He and the arresting officer were still standing in the line for processing when Holly rushed over and whispered, "What's going on here, big guy?"

Butler's rakish smile was anything but cheery. "Allegedly, I'm in the habit of bashing in the skulls of housewives. You know, while I'm out shopping for dinner groceries."

"What's the  _real_  story?" Trouble asked. "Or your version of it."

That earned him a glare from Holly, but Butler shrugged and answered, "Guy in a black getup got her from behind. Didn't see him strike her myself, but he was holding the pipe, then dropped it and skedaddled when I started toward him. I made the rookie mistake of stopping to check and make sure she wasn't dying."

"Instantly putting you in a bad light," she sighed. "Was the woman brought in to give a statement?"

"Yes, Captain," the pixie told her formally. "Corporal Kelp was dispatched to fetch her."

"Good," Butler said, lowering his voice so that only Holly could hear it. "Check her eyes. Might be a  _mesmer_  in play, here."

"A set-up?" she asked in equally muted tones.

"Smells like one."

"Hey, none of that," Trouble ordered. "I have to maintain some semblance of following police procedure. You'll cool your heels in a holding cell, Goliath, then I'll come in and ask for your story, and we'll look for trails of breadcrumbs  _after_  that."

"Very well." He turned to Holly. "Suppose my right to a phone call – if I have that right in the Lower Elements – might be moot if you could...?"

"Sure thing," she said with a nod. "I'll do it myself."

"And we'll all pretend she isn't," Trouble grumbled. "Sheesh, this is going to give me a migraine..."

As they left Butler stagnant in the booking line, Holly turned to her superior and asked, "Mind if I take a quick smoke break?"

"Sure," Kelp sighed. "Would you like me to loan you a cigar so you can at least pretend you're not lying through your teeth?"

"That'd be big of you, Trubs."

"It's  _Command-_  oh, forget it." He thrust a cigar into her hand and snapped, "Don't take too long or I'll dock your pay."

Smiling wryly, she saluted and said, "Yessir, Commander, sir."

"Oh, get out of my face."

o o o

"Permit me, if you will, to state the obvious; you and Holly Short are more than just passing acquaintances."

Artemis smirked. "I permit you to state it, though I refuse to acknowledge outright. However, for the sake of mental exercise, we can continue under your assumption for now."

Dr. Argon grimaced. "Must you activate these defence mechanisms, Artemis? Would stating the truth openly, with no dry wit or creative arrangement of words, be so hard to endure?"

"It might. I've rarely tried it."

"Very well, then.  _Assuming_  you and Miss Short are an item, how does the fairy community's overall reaction make you feel?"

"Feelings," he sighed wistfully. "Oh, how sensitive we are today."

"A genuine answer would be nice."

"I feel angry," he said simply. "Is that what you desired to hear? Well, there you have it, then. It angers me that a single one of them think it their prerogative whom I do and do not associate with. Moreover, it angers me that Holly must suffer through this on my account. She's been through so much, given of herself for the good of all fairykind, and this is how they repay her!"

"Good, good," Argon urged, leaning back in his chair as he jotted down notes on his data pad. "Hold onto that, explore it."

"Shall I explore the dark jungles within my heart,  _bwana?_  I thought you were encouraging positivity."

"This  _is_  positive," he corrected the young boy. "Just because it's not a warm, gooey feeling of happiness doesn't mean your anger is always unjustified and therefore undesirable. Those People are threatening something dear to you, twisting it until it seems negative. Indignation is a perfectly healthy response."

Looking down at his hands, Artemis shook his head. "To be honest with you, Doctor, I can't be entirely sure I am justified. You were the one that warned me I was leading her into deep, brackish waters."

"Yes, of course you are; I won't sugarcoat it. But in the end... how do you feel about her? Not just on the surface."

"I love her." He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Alas, to befuddle it with more words or complexity weakens it, makes it sound insincere. I want to spend the rest of my days in her company. She's all that matters. Which, unfortunately, is part of the reason I'm considering leaving her."

Argon's eyebrows shot up. "You are?"

"Look around us. Everywhere we'll go, there will be fairies glaring, hurling insults and cursing our union and, in time, perhaps attacking us physically. It has already happened once so far. How can I say I care for her if I don't care for her safety?"

"Mhmm, mhmm. That is an important choice to reflect on; putting what you most wish for her ahead of your own basest wants. A tough call. But what does  _she_  want?"

"Holly?" He contemplated that for a few seconds. "I... couldn't tell you, not with any kind of certainty. She has her own mind, and I would never presume to make it up for her."

"How does she feel about you? From what you've observed, first answer."

The human youth shrugged. "My first answer would be that she loves me, as well. Again, I can't state it as fact, but it's... an educated guess."

"And there is the rub." Argon sat back, data pad forgotten briefly as he stared hard at his patient. "If you truly care for her, you should of course consider her safety. But by the same token, you should also consider her feelings. What do you think her response would be if you came right out and told her, 'I'm breaking this off because it's too dangerous'? Would she understand, accept it?"

"Likely not," he admitted. "My best guess is that she would berate me for giving up so easily; goad me about my thirst for a challenge. Because she shares this thirst. It's one of those key points that binds us."

"Then you think she'd disagree with your reasoning?"

"What if I didn't tell her that was the reason? I could end things based on another aspect; say the age and species differences would put too much strain on us in the future, that we're heading for a fall if we ignore-"

"I'd advise against that," the doctor told him gently. "Lies will only tarnish your friendship. Besides, I'm betting she'd see through it anyway and think less of you for taking the coward's way out."

Artemis pursed his lips. He did not enjoy being called a coward when he was only thinking of Holly's welfare. "How about this. I think I'm over the Atlantis Complex, even if I've developed one or two other complexes along the path. And, with this being our final session, I can now be legally declared 'peachy keen'. Therefore, this is no longer any of your concern, eh?"

Dr. Argon shot him a grumpy look, then shook his head. "I'm not sure if doing that would be the best thing for you."

"What?" When he got no response, Artemis sat up straighter on the couch and glared at his psychiatrist. "What precisely do you mean to do, here? Hold me hostage in Haven until I take every shred of advice you dish out?"

"Frond help us, no. But this is a tumultuous time in your life; being persecuted by fairies, contemplating the end of a relationship almost before it gets started. Can you honestly say it's the wisest time to discontinue therapy?"

They stared evenly at each other. It likely would have gone on for hours if his communicator hadn't buzzed.

"Yes?" Artemis snapped as he swiveled his ring around. "What is it?"

"We got trouble, Artemis," came Holly's stressed voice.

"What now? What on earth now?"

"Butler's in the slammer."

_"Come again?"_

"Yeah. I think you'd better get down here post haste."

"Will do. See you in minutes." Artemis stood as he replaced his ring in its usual position of rest and straightened his tie. "Doctor, though it pains me, we must cut our time short. Do the right thing and sign the documents."

"I'm afraid I can't." Before Artemis could protest, he held up his hands and said,  _"Yet._  One more session. Monday afternoon at the usual time. Then, if your life seems to have a touch more stability than at this moment – when it obviously doesn't – I'll stamp whatever needs stamping."

This wasn't at all what Artemis had wanted to hear, and he found himself briefly infuriated. An instant later, when his mind had flashed to what Butler might be going through, all fight left him as vexation took over. "Deal. But I'll hold you to it; unless you find something expressly wrong with me at that time, you must allow me to return to my country of origin."

"Noted. Now go, tend urgent matters. If I may ask...?"

"We'll review Monday," Artemis flung over his shoulder as he swept from the room.

o o o

"There isn't much we can do at this juncture, is there?"

Holly leaned back against the smooth wall behind Police Plaza. This tiny refuge was unknown to the general populace, and indeed most of the LEP for that matter; they assumed the unassuming door led to a broom closet. It was, in fact, a designated smoking area that had been in use before air purifiers were standard equipment in the offices.

"'Fraid not, kiddo," Holly said, her teeth clamped around the stogie. "Things are looking pretty grim."

"Must you puff upon that acrid thing?" Artemis said with no small helping of disdain. "It's repugnant. I can't even fathom kissing you afterward."

"It was one of Julius's," she told him, which quieted his objections. "I know Trouble always hangs onto one for special occasions, and he gave it to me. And anyway, I'm only supposed to be out here smoking if I'm actually out here smoking. It's our cover, get it?"

"Right, right." Artemis ran his hand through his hair, now doing his level best to ignore the clouds of fungal secondhand. "Next on the agenda: Butler. They've determined he must go to a pre-trial hearing, you say. There's absolutely no way to get him out of this before it reaches that point?"

"Nope," she agreed with him sadly. "Trouble and the attorneys say there's not a clear, open-and-shut case. Foaly has confirmed that the victim was hit with the  _mesmer_ , but that's it; it doesn't prove it pertains to this case at all. And she says all she remembers is Butler coming toward her, quote, 'with an evil gleam in his eye', then decided she was his birthday piñata."

Artemis was pacing now. "But she doesn't remember  _seeing_  him with the pipe. That will be indispensable. Also, the bit where only this woman's fingerprints are on the pipe."

"No other sets. All our officers followed procedure, which means no new prints to eliminate, either. But before you say it, forensics has proven there was no way for her to sustain the blow she did by her own doing; directional trauma, or whatever."

"Yes, yes, struck from behind; hard to do to oneself."

"But in the prosecution's favor, just because she doesn't remember seeing the pipe or him strike her doesn't mean he  _didn't._  I'll give them that one; she could have lost the few seconds before she was hit due to her brain being rattled around."

"So there'll be a hearing." Artemis punched the wall, earning himself a throbbing fist for his efforts. "Ouch. That always looks so manly in movies, yet now I find it to be the most puerile and unsatisfactory way of venting one's frustrations."

"Aww," Holly cooed around her cigar. "Baby want mama to kiss it all better?"

"Not until you've used mouthwash." Holly made a face at him, but Artemis was not to be sidetracked. "What can I be doing at this point? To be frank, my first instinct is to begin plotting his illicit escape, but I'm trying –  _trying_  not to venture down such avenues."

"For which I'm proud of you," she told him with genuine warmth. "Not joking at all, Arty."

"But I'm sure I won't be welcome in Foaly's operations booth. That is where I'd probably be of the most help, outlining our defence."

"Then your place is with Butler's public defender. Some demon named... Basset, I think. As the closest thing Butler has to family within the Lower Elements, you're welcome to join them for strategizing."

"A demon." Artemis grunted. "They want to flay all humans with their horns, and one of them is now our solicitor? That's quite rich, Holly. Cheers."

The captain shrugged awkwardly. "Don't shoot the messenger?"

"I know, I know." He cursed vehemently, and Holly's eyebrows drew together at his use of such language; she couldn't be sure her gift of tongues was translating it correctly, but it sounded as if he'd somehow propositioned her while fuming at Butler's predicament. "What are we to do, Holly? If The Council will listen to reason, I'm sure this can all be sorted with no real harm done, but... we are Mud Men. Unbiased verdicts will be at a premium."

"You'll get through it. The important thing is that we be there for Butler. I can testify on his behalf as a character witness, since I had nothing to do with the incident under trial."

Artemis clapped his hands to her shoulders. "I expected you would. Too good to be true, that's what you are. Too honest, and decent... and I'm probably going to be depending on you a lot in the coming days."

"Depend all you have to, Artemis," she told him quietly. "I'm pretty much chained to you now."

But as they embraced, grateful for the warmth and reassurance, both of them entertained dark thoughts. Butler was going to court, and no amount of pats on the back could shake the notion that they were about to be paraded straight into a three-ring circus.

o o o  _END Chapter Thirteen_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's a dirty trick being pulled. Anyone sharp enough who's ever heard of Butler before ought to realize that a pipe is the furthest thing from his style, even if he were responsible. Alas, the law must be seen to.
> 
> NEXT: Law & Order: Trial By Fairy?


	14. Preliminary

**HAVEN CITY HIGH COURTHOUSE; TWO DAYS LATER**

"This hearing in the matter of The People vee Mud Man Butler will now come to order. Honorable magistrate Chairman Cahartez presiding."

The room stood as one, and Artemis Fowl followed the cues. His mother remained seated; she was not part of their society and had no real reason to bow and scrape. He expected them to simply sit when the chairman sat, but instead they all raised their hands and chanted.

"Will of the People and of the Book and of the Earth be served in the Lower Elements."

Artemis moved his mouth to give the illusion that he had prior knowledge of this procedure. He was not alone; he noticed a few other fairies' mouth movements did not match the words. As he would find out later, this was something taught in fairy primary schools to be memorized, sort of like the Western "Pledge of Allegiance" across all magical families. But, of course, there were always those who skipped the lessons or had forgotten the exact wording in their long years.

Immediately following this chant, the bailiff – or whatever he was known as in fairy courtrooms – bade them be seated.

"Make your pitch, prosecution," said Cahartez, straightening his conical hat and settling in to his luxurious seat.

Greater than when he'd first noticed him, Artemis's blood boiled when he recognized the oily elf and his thin mustache rising from the prosecution's table. He had been among the lynch mob. How on earth could they consider this trial fair? Then again, as none besides Des Regart had been officially charged, his anti-Mud views likely weren't enough to get him removed from the proceedings.

"Your Honor, if it please the High Court, I move we do away with the proper trial to follow and send this hulking monster straight to Howler's Peak. A poor, innocent elfin mother, accosted in broad daylight for doing nothing more than being in the Mud Man's way. I mean, honestly!"

"Objection!" the demon spoke up, anxiously shuffling his papers. It pained Artemis to see the silk tie hanging around his neck when it was mostly all he was wearing. Comical did not go hand in hand with credibility. "Referring to my client as 'Mud Man' is derogatory, and would prejudice both yourself and a jury should this go to trial."

"Objection ignored," Cahartez spat sourly. "He is a Mud Man; it is the accepted legal term for those belonging to the non-magical family of sentient beings living aboveground. Get off the semantics, Basset. Mr. Daikon, you were saying?"

"Thank you, Chairman." Daikon's triumphant smile took on a mocking shadow as his face briefly turned toward the defence table, but was gone when he swiveled around to address the panel. "As I was saying, I find it appalling that we're even meeting to discuss this. He's intruding upon sacred fairy ground; there's no legal precedent for him to be inhabiting our city in the first place. His mind should have been wiped before sending him back to the mudpools. But this hasn't been done – and see how we are repaid for allowing him within our city walls! He lashes for no discernible reason, his craving for violence unquenchable! We must prosecute him to the fullest extent. Thank you."

As he reclaimed his chair, all but chortling aloud, Cahartez nodded as if in full agreement. Again, Artemis held strong doubts that justice would truly be served this day, but decided to hold his tongue for the moment. The chairman then cleared his throat and said, "Very well, your turn, demon."

Basset blinked, affronted at having been addressed by his species rather than name or even occupation. It was most rude, especially for someone of such authority. Nevertheless, he pulled himself together after a moment and stood. "Members of the panel, I submit that this case is a house built on sand, at best. You have yourself a human found near the scene of a crime. Now, we all know how evil humans are, and normally I'd be siding with you, but the evidence just isn't there. 'Walking nearby' is not evidence. You have the weapon in question with the victim's blood on it, but no prints other than hers – and Mr. Butler here had no gloves in his possession at the time of arrest, nor were there any easy means of disposing of evidence near the scene of the crime. The victim herself has no memory of his attack. Also, we submit the police report that she shows clear signs of having been under the  _mesmer_  – which throws her claims that he was 'stalking toward her menacingly' under doubt."

"Get to the point, Basset," said Lope, another Council member on the High Court panel whom had been leaning on his hand the entire time.

"Butler says he didn't do it," Basset rushed ahead, straightening his tie to alleviate his anxiety. "To be blunt, at this point his testimony is more reliable than the victim's, since he shows no recent signs of his mind being tampered with. Instead of trying to convict an innocent Mud Man, I say we should be out trying to find the true aggressor."

"An aggressor whom may or may not exist," said Daikon in a carrying whisper.

"Cut that out," barked Cahartez, though his tone was not reproachful enough considering the circumstances. "It isn't your turn to address the High Court. Defence, are you through yet?"

"Not quite." The demon glanced down at his notes – for a heartbeat too long, proving that he only partially memorized his opening remarks and was too flustered to recall them – and said, "Oh. What I wanted to point out was, these three humans have been granted temporary residence in Haven. This is due in part to the Fowl boy's role in not just the recent plot by the escaped convict Turnball Root to abduct our most powerful warlock, but also in defeating Opal Koboi several times, and in saving my own race from being obliterated. Sometimes these things come at a price, and in this case, it seems to be Atlantis Complex."

"Yes, yes, we're well aware of all that," blustered Prickle, a wizened old centaur with a long flowing mane of crimson. After silence settled, she cleared her throat and continued in more even tones, "This is not a hearing on Mud Man rights, nor a chance for exposition on how we all came to be here. We are trying to determine the guilt or innocence of one Mud Man in a specific case of fairy battery. Please don't forget that."

"But it is a vital element in this case," Basset insisted. "It was Daikon who initially brought up the fact that this Butler shouldn't be here; I was merely illustrating the standing reason why he is. Coming from a warlike species myself, I understand why this weaker human would not wish to seek treatment in a city where he is vastly outnumbered without bringing along two larger humans to ensure his safety. It is a sound tactical maneuver."

Artemis cringed. He was being painted as a sniveling coward. If it meant Butler would be released, however, he was willing to take the blow to his reputation.

"But you've just admitted that Butler is here to ensure protection," Daikon lobbed their way. "And that he's of obvious size to have the upper hand against any fairy daft enough to cross his path. I thank you for making my case."

Basset's teeth ground together. "No, that's- you are confusing protection with aggression. Any imp knows the difference between attack and defence. Besides, having the ability to do harm means nothing without clear evidence that harm was done. Based on your logic, I could argue that because you possess the ability to  _mesmer_ , then it must obviously have been  _you_  who convinced her that Butler was attacking her instead of yourself."

Perhaps Artemis was the only one who caught the flicker of fear in Daikon's features when Basset made this offhand comment. Perhaps not, but no one in the courtroom said a word about it. "Preposterous. Why would I attack some housefairy?"

"Why would Butler?" Shrugging his enormous arms, the demon announced, "No motive; he didn't know her from Frond. There's also no evidence he had means or opportunity, as she was facing him when she was struck from behind. No prints on the weapon... I can't seem to understand why he's been arrested to begin with."

"Because there are  _no other suspects,"_ Daikon countered. "However the Mud Man managed to hide his crime, he was the one that did it, because the two were alone on that stretch of street. Well, except for the imaginary assassin."

 _"Enough!"_ Prickle shouted. "The Council is still in charge of this pre-trial, if you'll be so kind as to stop bickering like foals!"

"Yes, I quite agree," Cahartez spoke up. "And I have to admit, the prosecution hasn't offered enough reason for us to continue with a full hearing. But I'd like to hear from the victim."

"Mrs. Whelk to the pedestal," called the bailiff-person.

Had Butler's freedom not been on the line, Artemis would have found all this fascinating. They actually perched the witnesses being interviewed on a short pedestal, forcing them to stand upon its pitiful surface area and still concentrate on their testimony. Under the bailiff's glare, her trembling hands produced a necklace from under her blouse and gripped a tiny copy of the fairy Book between them.

"Do you swear to avoid perjury and uphold the spirit of the People with your words?"

She gulped, cheeks filled with rouge. Anyone could tell she wasn't used to drawing this much attention and never had been. "I swear."

Artemis had expected one of the solicitors to approach and question the elf, but instead the Chairman cleared his throat. "Please tell us as accurately as you can what you remember from the attack, every detail."

And she did, taking them through her purchase of the loaf of bread to the moment the LEP officer arrested Butler. She shook visibly, and fumbled her words, but she presented no alternate version of her story; it all sounded exactly as she'd told the police before. Once she was through, the demon attorney known as Basset was allowed to prompt her a tad.

"So you say the Mud Man approached you. Was he holding a lead pipe at the time?"

"I said I didn't see it," she said irritably. "He could have hidden it in the basket. Or he could have picked it up when my back was turned."

"But you said your back  _wasn't_  turned; you kept both eyes trained on him the entire time until you blacked out. Isn't that correct?"

"Well, yes."

"According to the forensics team, the wound was definitely inflicted from behind. So even if he produced the pipe and ran at you, that still wouldn't make sense."

"I don't remember." Her voice shook as she pleaded with them. "Can't you understand how upset I am that I don't? It's frightening, having parts of your memory missing."

"Yes, I sympathize," he told her earnestly. "No one's saying you're making it up, or that you deserved to be attacked. But given the circumstances, it's nigh impossible for this Mud Man to have done the deed."

"How do I know he didn't have a friend do it?" she blubbered. "That Mud Boy, there! What if he was the one who did it?"

"Let the record show that the 'Mud Boy' indicated is Artemis Fowl," the demon told the courtroom at large. "Miss, that is also impossible, as he was in a private therapy session before, during, and after the attack."

"Your honors, that may not be true," Daikon spoke up, standing and leaning heavily upon the table. "We all know what a clever Mud Boy this Fowl is. Can anybody wholeheartedly state that it's beyond his ability to feign this alibi?"

"We have a sworn statement from Dr. Argon," Basset said at once. "The human being treated at the time was definitely this one."

"As if Argon hasn't misplaced a patient before. Doesn't anyone else remember Opal Koboi's masterful escape? What's to stop this Mud Man from pulling a similar caper?"

For a moment, Basset was caught with his horns dull. He hadn't thought of that. Artemis leaned in and whispered in his ear, and a few moments later, he said, "I see. Ahem. Apparently, it's a matter of public knowledge that thus far, even fairy technology has been unable to create a clone that is little more than a useless bag of flesh with the same shape and DNA of the original. Had Fowl been asleep during his treatment, maybe he could have used one as a stand-in, but he was awake and chatting with the psychiatrist."

"Oh, really? That's 'public knowledge', is it? Where's your proof?"

"If I may, your honors?" spoke up Foaly. When two of the Council members nodded at him, he stood, smoothing out his shirt as he said, "I can have reams of data in your hands within minutes, if you require it; the clones contain absolutely no brain activity besides basic life-sustaining functions. If Fowl is capable of achieving anything beyond this, it's a quantum leap forward in science – and that would be if he had access to laboratory conditions. During his stay in Haven City, he has not."

"But isn't there any shred of possibility he's done it?" Daikon followed up swiftly. "Any at all, no matter how infinitesimal?"

Foaly whinnied. "No. There would be a mile-long paper trail of resources he'd need to procure in order to complete such a procedure, if  _and only if_  he solved the problem of brain-dead end products. And let's say he did achieve the relative complexity of an adult human being; it would be an entirely different matter to reproduce his own brainwaves and replicate them within the second body, then coordinate this attack with his therapy session... and atop that, where has the clone been stashed away? Where is it now? You can begin to see how this would be unfeasible."

"We get the picture," said Lope in a monotone. "Thank you, consultant."

Foaly beamed, satisfied with his own mental aptitude, and reclaimed his seat in the audience.

"I object to the court entertaining the centaur's so-called facts," Daikon grunted. Perhaps he didn't notice Prickle glaring at him following this, or perhaps he simply chose to ignore it. "He's been connected with the Mud Boy in the past, they have lent each other aid. Can we really take his opinions at face value?"

"I thought we weren't considering people's personal connections more important than their occupations, Mr. Anti-Mud Protestor," Cahartez warned, and Daikon flushed. "Foaly has no history of fudging the facts to suit personal interests before, so there's no reason to question his word now."

"Yes," Prickle flung at the prosecutor. "And from what I can remember from the medical journals I've read, he seems to at least have the part about brain-dead clones right. Even Opal Koboi was unable to get around that – and despite her insanity, she  _was_  a certified genius."

There were murmurs of assent, and Daikon was fuming. Artemis could tell it was taking his every last iota of self-control to keep from shouting at everyone.

"Now then," Basset said triumphantly, grinning and baring the fangs that demonkind were so proud of. "Let's revisit what the human Butler said to you after you awoke. Something about a shrouded attacker, I believe?"

o o o

Two humans, one demon and one elf were pacing in a small room within the courthouse. Half-drank cups of sim-coffee sat cooling on the conference table. They had been in there for near an hour.

"This is ludicrous," Artemis burst out, wrenching a chair backward and plopping into it. "How long can it possibly take for them to deliberate?"

"Patience, Arty," Angeline soothed, though she sounded no more calm than he did. "Justice must be served in its own time."

Holly nudged him with an elbow. "This is actually a good thing, Artemis. It means they didn't immediately decide our favorite mountainous human needs to go to trial. Even if they do decide to try him, at least they had to think about it."

"Whoopee."

"How am I doing?" Basset grunted, straightening his tie for the umpteenth time. "Oh, I know I should have picked the LEP or sanitation or wrestling for my occupation like the majority of my kind who chose to live in Haven City, but nooo, I had to do something  _more_ , aim for the moon _._ I'm terrible at this, aren't I?"

"Don't bellyache so much," Artemis told the demon. "You're doing a fine job, even if your inexperience shows around the edges."

"I wish you lot wouldn't keep speaking in that inane language around me," Angeline said irritably. "Isn't English good enough anymore?"

Artemis winced; he honestly hadn't realized he was speaking in Gnommish. It was coming so naturally to him these days. "Sorry, Mother. Demons have little-to-no magic; even the ones that have the gift of tongues seldom master it."

"We can't all pick up English and commit it to memory," Holly followed.

At these words and their inflection, Artemis blinked at her, flabbergasted. "Wait... do you mean to say  _you_ have? I didn't know fairies could speak other languages without their magic."

"It's not  _so_  weird," she retorted, crossing her arms. "Even that ex-convict pal of ours Diggums can speak several Mud-Mouths without benefit of tongues. It's- sorry," she hissed when her brain caught up with her voice. "I meant 'human languages'."

"We have a lot bigger worries at the moment than your ingrained slurs," Artemis told her in a flat tone. "Though I appreciate your continuing efforts to clean it up a bit for my sake."

"Not for your sake," she contradicted him. "Because it's the right thing to do."

"You sound so very LEP."

She was still snickering at him when the door creaked open. Grub Kelp poked his head in and whispered, "The panel is coming back. They sent me to tell you."

"Thanks, Grub."

"This courthouse is drafty," he grumbled as they all filed into the hallway. "You could catch a chill, end up with a chest cold. Someone should do something about it."

"You can write your strongly-worded memo  _after_ the verdict," Artemis said.

By the time they reached the courtroom, everyone else was present, and Council member Lope was the only one still settling into his seat. Butler shot them a sort of constipated smile, then turned back to the top of the room to dread his fate.

"People – and Mud People – all hear this," spoke Cahartez, making sure his pointed hat was on as straight as he could manage. "It is the decision of this panel of your Council, after careful thought, that there is not enough proof or evidence to come within so much as a dwarf's gust of a conviction. Blame that on whatever you like, but it stands true. In light of this, a trial by High Court seems like a waste of taxpayer's gold. The case against Mud Man Butler is hereby annulled."

And when the bailiff struck a tiny gong-like apparatus, some fairies gave surprised shouts while others muttered their disappointment as Butler stood, a satisfied grin in place. Artemis laughed and clapped the bodyguard on the back, and both Holly and Angeline threw their arms around him, giggling. Hadley Shrivelington Basset, on the other hand, let out a cleansing breath as he slid back down into his chair, clutching both temples as if nursing a headache.

"This isn't over," Daikon hissed as he passed Artemis. "We don't want you here, and you won't be for long, mark my words."

"I do believe it  _is_  over," Artemis said in equally low tones, unwilling to disturb his family's celebration. "With the case thrown out before it went to trial, you can't even file an appeal without getting shamed into disbarring yourself."

"We'll see about that." And with those uninspired words, the prosecuting elf stormed from the room, briefcase clutched under his arm.

"We did it, Artemis," Holly whispered, clutching both of his hands in hers, jumping up and down with excitement. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my doubts, but we got him off free and clear!"

"A victory for Mudkind everywhere," he replied with a smirk. "I doubt we've changed many minds today, but my faith in the Council's good sense has been restored. Let's head back and order some Cozingo's."

"I don't mind stopping by Plank's," she offered as they began gathering up their papers and things; Butler was over talking to a group of LEP now, retrieving the groceries and hoping against hope that some of them hadn't gone bad in the past days. "Give us a change of pace."

"If you would, dear," Angeline laughed. "I'm beginning to feel as if I have been eating the dishes of Mr. Cozingo for decades straight."

"You lot go on ahead, then," Artemis said with a grunt of annoyance. "I'm due in for my appointment. Blast, if only I could call and reschedule for tomorrow afternoon..."

"Don't worry about it," Holly told him. "We'll celebrate once you've got that clean bill of health in your sweaty little palms. That's two Mud Men being relinquished in the same day."

He nodded, touched her shoulder fleetingly – it was all he dared do in front of witnesses – and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, however, he felt something tug within his stomach. An instinct, nothing more. He shouldn't be leaving. Shouldn't be leaving his loved ones alone.

But why? Butler and Holly could more than take care of themselves under normal circumstances, and Angeline would be with Butler. Perhaps it was Daikon's sinister (if unimaginative) parting sentiment:  _we'll see about that._  Granted, the likelihood that any anti-Mud factions could put a plan into effect this soon was nil, but it still gave him pause.

He caught Holly looking at him questioningly. After a moment's indecision, he placed two fingers to his eyes, expression grim. Holly nodded her understanding;  _be vigilant,_  was his unspoken warning. And he knew she would.

The instinct didn't diminish as he exited the building.

o o o  _END Chapter Fourteen_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, dearest FFnet-ers. Brief summation, both my apartment community's management and the ISP are on my list.
> 
> That's shitlist.
> 
> As it stands now, I have a modem on its way that is supposed to arrive tomorrow. Where am I posting from, you might ask? A McDonald's parking lot. That's right; I'm using free wifi. I FEEL SO DIRTY! Some of you were legitimately worried for my safety, and I'm so sorry for that but there was little opportunity for me to do anything about it. Let's just pray that when the modem shows up that will be the end of my internet worries.
> 
> NEXT: Holy Moses, what's wrong with Angeline?


	15. Subterfuge

**J. ARGON CLINIC, HAVEN CITY; NOW**

"Sign here, and initial there."

Gratefully, Artemis put pen to paper and scrawled his autograph across the bottom. This was it; the official seal to mark the end of his time as a mentally-challenged person. It felt wonderful to be able to positively state that he was fit to be among his peers again – though he privately thought the list of such peers was lamentably brief. In a previous era, he would have said the list contained one name only: his.

"Very well, then, Artemis," Dr. Argon said briskly, feeding the paper into a fax machine. It was entirely possible the fax would not be printed but merely converted to a digital file and emailed to Foaly. "With that settled... anything else worrying you? Lingering doubts unrelated to the late Orion? I shan't be able to rescind my approval, so please don't let that hold you back."

The corner of Artemis's mouth twitched up. "Not trying to pull a fast one, are we? Fax the waiver to yourself and rope me into admitting that I'm still, as they say, 'nuttier than a fruitcake'?" When the doctor only glared in response, Artemis laughed. "Nevermind. I don't think so badly of you, anyway. To answer your nosy question, I'm perfectly fine. That isn't to say I've got my life sewn up and will never again feel so much as a prickling of depression, but my fairy ailment is gone, my bodyguard hasn't been forced into a jumpsuit and shackles, and I have my rash, hormone-driven romance to rejoice in until such a time as it implodes."

"Yes, yes, I see. I wish I could tell you being declared sane means you'll never have to deal with insanity again, but that would be an even worse illusion to base your life upon. On the other foot, it's heartening to hear you ready to deal with life as it comes; it illustrates that not only are you healthy, but growing up a tad. Welcome to adulthood, Master Fowl."

"I thank you, Doctor," Artemis grunted as he stood, extending his hand. After a moment, the psychiatrist shrugged and shook it warmly, standing as well. "Your drugs and exhaustive verbal tennis matches helped me close the book on a particularly dark chapter of my life."

Dr. Argon walked around his desk and opened the door for his patient. "Not so dark. You've a special new benchmark in your development out of it: first love."

"Er, yes." Artemis coughed to hide his nerves at speaking of it so freely without the door being closed. "Suppose that's something to keep in mind."

"Good luck to you, then."

"Yes, cheers. I hope I shouldn't require your services again, but I'll miss our talks." He rolled his eyes. "Never thought I'd say such words to any living psychologist of our times..."

When Artemis stepped out into the sun, it was as if he were being born all over again. That was the final step inside the clinic he'd need take. The world was at his feet once more.

No sooner had he reached the street leading to his house than his communicator buzzed. He smiled; Holly was probably going to complain that their food wasn't getting any warmer and demand to know how much longer he would be. Spinning it to face inward, he raised thumb and forefinger and chuckled, "Do keep your shirt on, will you? I'm nearly there."

"Artemis, you'd better put the pedal to the metal."

The deep voice could no more have belonged to Holly than an elephant's behind belonged to a gerbil. His veins ran with ice water as he switched gears. "What is it, Butler? What's happened?"

"It's Holly; the medical warlocks are on their way with the LEP, but- God, I'm not sure what to do here, nothing's working-"

Artemis had already broken into a run, closing the distance as fast as his loafered feet would carry him. "Hold fast, old friend. The apartment?"

"Yeah," Butler grunted, and Artemis thought he heard something  _squelch_  in the background. "Don't dawdle."

Taking the steps two at a time, Artemis banged through the semi-open door of his apartment and instantly felt his heart slip down into his intestinal tract.

Blood splattered the otherwise-clean floors. His quick eyes spotted a santoku knife, stained red, protruding from the carpeting, handle gleaming black. Three overflowing bags of takeout were gathering dust on the coffee table, entirely forgotten in light of the carnage. In the center of the open living space was Butler, bent over a still, unmoving figure. As Artemis edged into the room, throat working to swallow and failing, he saw Holly covered in crimson, with a-

He could no longer look. The next thing he was fully aware of, his hands were clutching the back of one of the chairs and he was heaving, trying to drive breath into his lungs, though it had somehow become such a demanding task that he wondered how he'd been taking it for granted before now.

"Artemis," Butler said in urgent tones, "focus. There's no time for a meltdown."

And that was all it took. Instantly, he forced his emotions under a rock in the pit of his stomach, where he would release them to terrorize his recently-mended psyche later. "What have we got?" he barked, as if he were working on his third-year residency.

"Chest wound, head wound, neck wound. Small cuts on the arms, one hand sl-" Butler had to pause before finishing. "Sliced nearly in two. Her elf mojo was doing all it could, but then the glowing stopped halfway through the job. I'm pretty sure she's out of the sparkly stuff."

"How long for the medi-warlocks?"

"They said ten minutes about five minutes ago. Artemis..." And their eyes met briefly. Butler was unaccustomed to showing this much emotion on his sleeve, but the pain in his eyes told him he had rarely blamed himself for something as much as he did now. "I don't think she's got another five."

"One side."

As Butler sat back, one hand each pressed to her neck and chest, Artemis began with her head; it was a nasty gash that probably came close to severing the nerves and synapses connected to that eye – the one that originally belonged to her. This was the wound that Artemis guessed the sparks had tackled first, as it was already half-closed. He placed a hand over it and whispered, " _Heal."_

Instantly, his magic sprang to life, and Artemis was nearly bowled over by the sheer amplitude. Sparks flowed from his fingertips and into her head, knitting the muscle and skin, reconnecting this and that. When he saw it was mostly closed up, he used his hand to knock Butler's away from her throat – and was immediately rewarded with a coating of blood that welled from it.

" _Heal,_  damn you!" he growled, and the magic flowed from him faster, dozens of blue lights invading her neck, forcing the blood to retreat inside from whence it came. The moment he saw it was taking root, he did the same to her chest, trying not to acknowledge the erratic heartbeat that he could feel –  _feel_  because he was  _touching it directly._ " Will you not  _heal?"_

This far into the ordeal, his head began to fog, his breath coming ragged as if he were climbing a mountain. The sparks needed more and more effort from him to force them outward, but force them he did. Steam had begun to issue from her head, the first healing, and her limbs shook.

"Hold her down, Domovoi," he panted, and the man obeyed, gingerly placing his hands on her arms and, after a slight readjustment, draping his leg over both of hers. Just when she began to convulse more violently, Artemis felt his magic dribbling away to almost nothing, but he knew it hadn't been in vain; her wounds were mostly closed, reduced to the same surface gashes that decorated her arms and one cheek.

"There," Artemis said at last, leaning back as he watched her nervous system reboot. "Her hand remains in a state, but I don't believe I can get to that with the dregs I have left; let's hope it's treatable by the fairy EMTs."

"I realize now is not the proper time to ask how you became reunited with your hocus pocus," Butler grunted as her jerking and thrashing reached a fever pitch, "but if you don't mind..."

"The ritual," he said simply as he watched carefully, noting the way her breath came in random bursts, her head threw itself from side to side. "When Holly completed it, so did I. Back came the unearthly abilities of the People."

"I see," he replied as her bicycle kicks subsided. "Well, I suppose it's a lucky thing you gave that a shot."

"Your turn, old friend. What in the name of science has gone on over the short hour I was tied up? Were the anti-Mud blighters waiting to ambush you?"

Butler's face somehow became yet more ashen than it already was. "Not the angry fairies, Artemis. It was... your mother."

o o o

**FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER**

Angeline Fowl couldn't help but shake the dubiety that something within her mind wasn't as it ought to be. It had started just after she'd exited the ladies' room at the courthouse, and before allowing Butler to escort her home, that the notion had first visited her. When she tried to take stock of her mind, probing for some invasion by a diabolical pixie, she came up empty-handed; all was normal. Except the niggling dubiety.

So she had gone home with the manservant, had begun mincing a fruit salad from the semi-rotten offerings they had recovered from police impound upon the bodyguard's release. More of it had been salvageable than she'd expected. Soon, Holly would return with their dinner, and this dessert would be waiting for afters.

Holly. It was something about Holly she was trying to remember, wasn't it? No... maybe it wasn't, but it sure seemed like it could be for a moment, there.

Butler had just stepped into the recycling room when the knock at the door sounded. Angeline crossed the apartment, wiping her hands on her apron as she went, and asked, "Who is it?"

"The elfin food-fetcher," Holly laughed. "I've got dim sum!"

Angeline smiled. What a little peach she could be. Grinning, she opened the door-

And her grin vanished. What had she been thinking a moment ago? Something...

"Sorry it took me this long," she managed to say from under the bags of heavy foodstuffs. "There was this enormous line at Plank's, I couldn't even begin to figure out why the run on his wares. I mean, it's good, but it's not like there's a gold nugget at the bottom of every box."

"Right, yes," she said tersely as she returned to her fruit salad. She was speaking as if they chatted like this every day. Girl-to-girl. The  _nerve._

"Where's Artemis?"

"He'll be along," she said as she chopped the fruit. "I expect that meddlesome head-shrinker will be bilking us for our every last dime before he lets him go."

Holly snorted, stretching her limbs to rid them of the aches that carrying too many packages had created. "Probably so. I think I'll pop down to the corner market for some sim-wine to go with this. Any preference, red or white?"

Angeline's eyes glazed over as she stared at the knife in her hand. "Oh, I'm feeling puckish... let's go with red."

Only a quick dance backward had enabled Holly to avoid the first strike – which isn't to say she didn't get cut, but only that it was a minor wound rather than a severed arm. "What the-  _what are you doing?"_

"My son was perfectly fine before he met you," she spat, tones low and feral. "All of you, you stinking pixies!"

"Ma'am, please," said Holly in more authoritative tones as another cut glanced off her forearm. Several more near-misses caused beads of sweat to pop out on her temples before she barked, "Stop! What's wrong with- what happened to you?"

"And you're  _twice his age_ , if not more!" she screamed, knife arcing for her head. Holly's hand came up to block it, but luck was not with her and her open palm; the thin, razor-sharp blade easily pierced tender flesh, sliding down between fingers and finding its way into her pate. "Are you older? Are you older than  _me?_ How dare you lay your wretched hands on his innocent body! How dare you drag him into your dark netherworld, cursing him with that disease!"

"Enough!" Holly growled, clutching her broken hand to her broken head as she landed a solid blow with her fist, bashing into the human woman's shoulder and sending her staggering back. "Disapprove of me all you like, but if you think I'm going to let you fillet me just because you're in a snit-"

"This is  _not a snit!"_  With a charging strike, she took Holly into the wall, and when the two broke apart, the knife was buried in her chest.

"Oh," Holly gurgled, eyes and mouth making three ovals as her fingers clutched around it. "So... n-not a snit..."

Then she fell backward onto the floor, trying to pull out the blade but unable to make her weakened limbs do much more than move it around. Angeline was upon her an instant later, wrenching it this way and that, widening the hole. It was abundantly deserved for what that  _thing_  had done to her little Arty.

"Please," Holly gasped out, eyes unfocused, breathing shallow. "P-please, I... what have I... why-"

"Shut up, you harlot." A quick swipe across her throat did indeed shut her up.

Then a shot fired over her shoulder, imbedding itself in the wall. Her head whipped around, and she saw Butler standing in the lavatory doorway with his firearm leveled, barrel aimed between her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Angeline, but I suggest you step away from my little friend there if you're capable, because otherwise I might do something to get myself downsized."

The idea came to her from the ether. Her first thought had been to keep attacking the vile fairy who was trying to steal her son from her, but this new thought was so much stronger, so insistent:  _flee._  She had to get away, it was all she had to do. Whimpering, she flung the knife away from her and pelted through the door into the hallway, stumbling, uncaring for her destination...

o o o

Artemis breathed a conflicted sigh as three things happened: Butler's colossal tale of horrors came to its end, Holly's thrashing died away, and the door burst open, framing a familiar face.

"Hey, Mr. Fowl," said the squat imp with brilliant red markings. "How's my favorite LEP officer?"

"Worse for wear," Artemis replied lightly in spite of the grave situation. Just having the snarky little imp and his vast powers on the scene eased his soul. "Please... we've done all we were able, but she's- I don't want there to be any lasting damage if you can-"

 _"Heal,"_ No1 said without touching her, hand merely raised in her general direction. As the red and blue sparks spiraled forth, he paced toward her until his hand was above the middle of her chest. Artemis watched, relieved beyond measure, as every wound closed up without any marks or disfigurement. Perhaps the human had saved her life, but the Lower Elements' most powerful warlock had preserved her quality of same.

Two other medical warlocks followed them inside, along with three LEP officers. While the officers were taking Butler's statement and examining the bullet-hole, marveling at the primitive technology, the two lesser warlocks checked both Artemis and Butler over rapidly. Finding no damage, they turned their attentions to Holly.

"They're magically replicating her blood," No1 told them as he stepped back, leaving the other two to lay hands on the captain. "So she awakens more or less in top condition. I mean, sure, I could do that part as well, but it seems silly for all of us to come down here and end up with me doing all the work."

Holly sat bolt upright, chest heaving, eyes wild and fierce. She clutched the nearest warlock by the arm, squeezing so tight that he yelped. Then, forcing herself to breathe deeply and slowly, she released his arm and pushed herself to her feet, tormented by the patient movements.

"Okie-dokie," she grunted, popping her neck. "So I'm alive, but I don't have a drop of magic left. All in all, a far better outcome than I thought I'd get – I mean, I got freaking _skewered."_

"Oh yeah, here-" And No1 pointed a finger-gun at her, clicked with his teeth, and beamed a red blast of pure magic into her stomach. She glowed for a moment before the light subsided. "In case somebody else thinks you're sashimi."

"I appreciate it, buddy," she half-laughed, cracking her neck once more to assure herself that the borrowed magic was indeed within her. "Good to know. Now, let's skip all the think-tank-ing and go straight to 'Angeline was  _mesmer_ ed', eh?"

"Would make more sense than assuming she decided a Japanese cooking knife was meant to carve out your heart," Artemis rumbled. "And whomever was on the giving end of this  _mesmer_  will soon be wishing they'd turned my mother loose on themselves instead. Which direction was she headed, old friend?"

Butler gave a shrug as he washed his hands in the sink for the third time, trying to remove as much of the elf's leftover red cells as possible. "No way of knowing. I was too busy trying to staunch the crimson tide."

"That's a slang term that refers to something else entirely, y'know," Holly muttered under her breath. Then louder, she said, "Thanks, big guy. I just... I can't believe she got me so bad, where was all my training when I needed it?"

"You've never been trained to take down over-protective human mothers," Artemis said, wrapping his arms tightly around her. She immediately reciprocated, burying her face in his chest. All he wanted to do was devour the moment, allow his brain to wholly accept that she hadn't died after all, but there would be time for such leisure activities later. "And she was hypnotized, and she was armed, and you were caught unawares... a dozen viable reasons."

"You're right about that; she was the last person I ever expected to up and shank me. And I think we can rule out Butler having done the  _mesmer_ , so we'll assume the anti-Mud bigots are top suspects."

"We'll get on this right away," said one of the officers, mostly to Holly. "I'm leaving Django posted outside the door for now; apparently there's no sense leaving the Mud Men unguarded until they vacate the city."

"Sorry to breathe your precious air," Artemis bristled, but Holly pinched his bicep. "What?"

"They're trying to help, at least," she said wearily. "Let's not start fights with the few people on our side."

"You say that as if you've converted to Anti-Mudism," Artemis laughed, and she rolled her eyes. That reminded him of something. "So... can you see? I was worried, the cranial puncture-"

Holly was already shaking her head. "Perfect twenty-twenty vision; never been better. Seriously, you saved my butt. Again. Always saving my butt."

"Don't I deserve any credit?" said No1 in a pouty tone of voice. He yelped in surprise when Holly tackled him in a crushing hug.

"Of course, Silly-Billy!" she giggled, so relieved to have survived that everything seemed bright and cheery. "Don't break your arm patting yourself on the back! But yeah, I figure I'll be dedicating my 'wounded for the millionth time in the line of duty' medal to you."

"That would be thanks enough," he told her nervously, patting her on the back. Just then, Artemis remembered that No1 had shown some vague interest in her as more than an acquaintance, and swatted away the annoying gnat of jealousy that started buzzing around his ear.

"Very well, then," Artemis sighed, activating his communicator yet again. "Foaly," he told it in a clear tone.

"What are you up to?" Butler asked.

"We need surveillance footage of the outside of this building, and surrounding roads. We should be able to pinpoint her eventual destination."

"Ah," Holly said quietly as she disengaged from the hug with the imp.

"You believe this to be the wisest course of action?" Butler asked. "Chasing her down immediately?"

"Perhaps not. But until we- hello, Foaly? Listen, there's something I require of-"

"Not now, Mud Boy," Foaly said in a whisper. "I think you should be turning on your television instead of giving me an earache."

Confused, Artemis did as he was bade, and was immediately rewarded with a simmering anger that aerated his stomach acid and made his neck muscles tighten.

"-will not be enough," the unpleasant face of the self-important dwarf told his captive audience. "No, this time we  _demand_  for the forcible ejection of all Mud Men from Haven City by the end of tonight. Permanent banishment; for those of you with a drop of troll bloodline, that means they don't come back. Otherwise, we'll make  _sure_ they don't in our own, indelicate fashion."

In a rare display of childish, unbridled rage, Artemis hurled a magazine from the coffee table at the screen, causing it to flicker. The ringleader's features did not vanish, and remained just as defiant and sinister as before.

"Eight-and-a-half hours to midnight, Haven-time - and counting. Tick, tock, Mudlovers. Tick, tock."

o o o  _END Chapter Fifteen_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, fear and intrigue and delicious gore! Hope none of you were overly disturbed by the stabbing scene. And if you were... well, I hope there's no lasting trauma?
> 
> Yes, I got my wireless router in the mail... only to find it doesn't work. So close, and yet so very, very far! TWO DAYS on the phone and a dozen hours wasted listening to hold-Muzak later, and I still have no internet. The technician can't get his rear in gear to pay me a house call until Monday! So yet again, here I am at McDonald's sipping Dr. Pepper and lamenting my existence.
> 
> NEXT: Hunting.


	16. Exigency

**HAVEN CITY; ONE HOUR LATER**

All parties in the cramped, makeshift war room were on edge. Trouble Kelp, specifically, because there were two Mud Men crowding it. Everyone else's attention was completely given over to the hostage crisis.

"Great," Trouble grunted as Foaly shuffled in, nose buried in his data pad. "Now that we're all present and accounted for, let's get this done. This eight-hour time crunch hanging over our heads isn't helping anything, so there's no time to waste. What do we know?"

"Not much," Foaly admitted wearily, poking at a few symbols and bringing up a video file on the large presentation screen. "As you can see, we've managed to track Miss Fowl to the southeast district, but we lose her in there. I've been saying for years that the security coverage down there could use some sprucing-"

"Cut the crap, consultant," the commander ordered. "Bring it up at the next budget meeting. You can't be any more specific than the southeast?"

Foaly snorted, blowing a scrap of paper from the tabletop. "Trying, sir. No hints from the terrorist broadcast; they covered their keisters pretty thoroughly. I'm running a facial recognition program through all the surveillance feeds and cross-referencing it with the images of known anti-Mud lobbyists. Tracking Angeline may be a bust, but if we can catch one of them going into a building there..."

"At least that's something." After closing his eyes for a few seconds, the commander turned to Butler. "Okay. Correct me if I'm remembering wrong, but I think you said she was under the  _mesmer;_ you got a good enough look?"

"I did," Butler said as he attempted to adjust himself within the cramped fairy-sized chair. "Not that I could tell you without any doubts, since I'm no expert. But especially the way she shifted from murderous to running away in the blink of an eye seemed like hypnotic suggestion."

"So a fairy put the whammy on her," began Holly in cold, electric tones, "told her to slice me to ribbons the next time she saw me, and then beat feet right after. But we can't say for sure who did the  _mesmer_."

Foaly raised a solitary finger. "I might, if we could hook her up to the Retimager. But alas, that's assuming we can actually recover her person."

"You know," Artemis said slowly, sitting up a touch straighter, "There may be something I can do to hurry this along. Do you have a fairy equivalent of a sketch artist?"

"Is that what Mud Men call convicts?" Trouble asked.

"Ahh," Foaly said with an amused nod. "He's referring to the archaic practice of using pencils and papers to trace out a rough approximation of an eyewitness's memory of their assailant's features. Yeah, we have Voice-To-Face."

"Voice-To-Face? Meaning it's completely automated?"

"Precisely. It's old as dirt, but I do upgrade it periodically. Why?"

Artemis's vampiric grin made a reappearance. Other plans were coming together in his mind, but he had to put this step into action first or they might not reach steps two, three and four. "Because I remember each and every elf, goblin and pixie that attempted to lynch my mother the first time. Give me a few minutes with your equipment and I'll provide your cross-referencing subroutine a dozen more faces to watch out for."

No one spoke as they contemplated the advantages of this plan until Trouble barked, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get this Mud Boy a terminal!"

o o o

The pious dwarf known as Burroughs was pacing impatiently, glancing now and again at his timepiece. Four hours left, now. What could be keeping that asinine Council from realizing the error of their ways? Harboring Mud Men – inexcusable. The boy had probably never even had Atlantis Complex (it was a fairy disease!), and their entire reasoning for lingering underground was a sham. What the government's true reasons were for wanting to keep pet humans might be, he could only guess at, but it didn't matter much. Sooner or later, they had to concede that it wasn't worth pretending those beasts were capable of living among them, that they'd all be better off separating.

"How much longer do you think this will take?"

"Shut up, Des Regart," he ordered. "It will take as long as it takes."

"But what if they call our bluff?" another pixie asked, one whose name he couldn't seem to recall. A fresh recruit. "Are we really going to ice the Mud Men?"

Burroughs smirked. "Why shouldn't we? In fact, we won't even have to lift a finger; we'll ask our own pet to do it for us, won't we?"

Many of them laughed and pounded each other on the back, but truthfully, Burroughs wasn't at all happy about having the human woman so closeby. No doubt Daikon's skills with the  _mesmer_ were top-notch, but what if it wore off too soon, or if she had some tracking device or other hidden in places they hadn't checked? Then again, it was awfully difficult to ransom a being when you aren't hiding them at your present location. They had her in a locked room, cut off from all phones or power. It wasn't as awful as it could have turned out.

"We've got someone coming up outside," declared the lookout, a dopey goblin – which was a mighty achievement from a race already known for its dimwittedness. "A Mud Man. He's alone."

The dwarf's mouth twisted into a grin. "Already they're trying stupid stunts. Fine, then, I'm game – if he finds his way in, don't stop him."

And find his way in he did. First, the sickly, pale human glanced around at all the unwelcoming faces turned in his direction, but did not seem cowed – merely cautious. After taking in his surroundings, he cleared his throat mildly and said, "Isn't anyone going to shout obscenities?"

Burroughs hitched a toothy grin into place; meanwhile, all he wanted to do was retch at having to converse with such filth. "Welcome to our home away from home, Mud Man. Tell me, are you ready to lose your life should our beloved fairy justice system deem this outside their jurisdiction?"

"Hardly," Artemis Fowl said in a carrying voice. "I came here to make an offer."

"An offer!" Many of them laughed – how could he be serious? Didn't he know what position he was in? " _You_  would make  _us_  an offer? That's rich. Go on, then, wheel and deal me."

"My family and I were preparing to leave Haven City under our own power until you and your brutish actions delayed our departure. Yet you seem to believe capturing one of us will garner yourselves a spot of goodwill among the citizenry, and also speed our exit. Quite frankly, I think you're all a bunch of low-grade imbeciles."

Though most of them didn't fully comprehend Artemis's insult, they all picked up on enough to realize, at the very least, that they  _had_  been insulted. Burroughs, however, laughed. "What a mouth you've got on you! But I didn't hear an offer anywhere in your little speech."

"Very well; to business." He opened the small device he'd been carrying – a laptop computer – and displayed the screen to them at large. "What do you think you're seeing here?"

Four of them stepped close enough to get a better look at the image. Eventually, a sprite with lizardlike features raised her eyebrows and said, "It's a... bank transfer, isn't it?"

"It is. Might I hazard a guess that at least one among you has a Mud Man bank account, to keep your monetary comings-and-goings removed from the all-seeing eyes of the LEP?" Two hands went up, one of which was the dwarf's. "Excellent. Perhaps you're also blundering toward the terms of my offer."

"You want to make this a more... traditional ransom."

"Bravo, dear sir. A gold star for you." Artemis closed the laptop. "My number hasn't been keyed in yet, and neither has my impossible-to-guess password. Take special note that I do not exaggerate when I say it's impossible. Provide me with your account number, and I can have a dozen bars of digital gold in your account within minutes."

"I like the sound of it," Burroughs said, "but what you're not grasping is that this isn't just about money."

"It isn't?" asked an elf, earning himself an elbow to the stomach.

"My dear Mud Monkey, there's more to this. A lot more. It's about the sanctity of our populace. You shouldn't be here, then, now, or ever."

"But we won't," the lone human insisted. "You'll forgive me if I don't trust a fairy-run government to put the needs of my family above their own politics. So here I am, giving you a chance to cut out the go-between. Steal a few ingots directly from the Mud Men themselves, and also get them disentangled from your beard forever. A win-win scenario for you in every aspect."

The dwarf stroked his beard. It was an appealing option; they could live high on the hog for weeks  _and_  still succeed in their goals. "Fine, friend. But give me a solitary reason any of us should trust a Mud Man."

"Because you want the gold," he replied nakedly. "And you want us gone."

Then he tossed a device across the room, landing at their feet. Burroughs picked it up, turning it over in his hands; it resembled a flimsy crash helmet with no visor. "What's this supposed to be?"

"It's communications headgear. The key is attached by a thread, there – the only key. If you put it on your hostage and lock it, then retain the key, neither she nor I will be able to remove it until I next gain access to bolt cutters or similar. Until such a time, you will be able to give her any hypnotic trigger phrase you wish – as your insurance against my betrayal. That should give you enough time to monitor the bank transaction and celebrate in your newfound riches, or order my mother to attack me if the transaction does not go through."

Burroughs had a feeling he was being snowed. Long years of living as a confidence man had worn down his faith in the goodness of people, no matter their race. "What are you playing at, here, Mud-worm?"

"Pardon?"

"This is hardly any form of insurance." The dwarf slowly turned the device over in his hands, examining the key. "You say you'll be unable to remove it until after the bank transfer is complete, but how can I take that at face value? You've got yourself a spare key, or tin-snips in your trousers."

"Have your men search me," Artemis offered. "I've nothing on me but a pen and some small amount of fairy gold. Hardly even enough to purchase a cup of sim-coffee from a street vendor, incidentally."

All was silent as the room waited for their leader's decision. Then, with a sly grin, the dwarf shrugged and said, "No deal. We have principles to stick to. But I appreciate your visit. Next time, if the Council keeps their collective head in the sand, we may be the ones dropping in on you."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Before anyone could make another move, a door behind them banged open, and out marched Angeline Fowl, a severe look on her features. Artemis opened his mouth to ask her a question, then closed it again when he saw the small but sharp blade she was holding to her own throat.

"Not a move, Arty," she called out to him, voice oddly hollow and detached though her eyes were fiercely determined. "Don't make another step or I won't hesitate."

"To kill yourself?" he asked, standing stock still. "Why would you do that, Mother? Can you let me in on your thought process, here?"

"These poor folk have been through enough because of us. I've come to understand that they need... that they can't..."

"Can't achieve their goals without your help," came the oily voice of the lawyer, Daikon, as he joined them through the door she had recently walked through. His tone dripped with  _mesmer_. "Your conscience won't let you allow our plight to go on. You must do something about it, even if it means laying down your life."

"Exactly," she mumbled, pressing the point of the knife in just enough to draw a tiny droplet of scarlet. "They need me to do my level best."

"I see," Artemis replied, a tiny hint of nervousness creeping into his tone. The next time he spoke it had vanished. "And removing the matriarch of a family with two grade-school boys is well worth it when compared to... what were their goals, again? Annihilation of all humans?"

"We must recompense. Fairness for fairies."

Artemis scowled. "Alliteration, now. That's the farthest thing from music to my ears." Then he turned his attention to Burroughs. "Please, desist in this matter. I've already told you we were on the cusp of returning to our own land. What do you think it will prove if the Council forces us to leave, or for you to murder us? You'll be a laughingstock. The terrorists whose goals were to force a handful of people to vacate a city they were already vacating. Heroism at its most pathetic."

"As if you were really going to pack up and skip town," he guffawed. "Hilarious! You've made yourselves a cozy nook in the heart of Haven and I doubt you would leave it behind merely because we wish it. No... no, this way we can be positive that you will do as you claim you wished to do. And if not..." When he gestured to Angeline, she redoubled her grip on the blade.

"Oh, really? You think we're 'cozy' in that rotted-out no-bedroom knothole? Haven't you even done the tiniest shred of research? We have a beautiful, historic mansion to call home on the surface, with dozens of guestrooms and studies and a delightful swimming pool. Yet for some reason, you think I'd abandon all that to curl up on the sofa every night? A body would have to be barking mad."

"Oh, but aren't you? Barking mad, that is; supposedly you've got bats in the belfry. Why don't you sound the least bit off? Because it was a smokescreen."

Artemis was losing patience. "Because I've been cured. Do try and keep up, as all this rehashing is tiresome. We've vastly more important matters to tend."

 _"Enough_ , Mud-whelp! You and your kind sicken us, and it is not enough that you are willing to leave when you are good and ready! You should never have been here in the first place, and we mean to highlight that point so that it will be crystal clear for generations to come! Only those with fairy blood and the magic that goes with it are welcome below ground! No exceptions!"

For the first time since he entered the room, Artemis felt a prickle of triumph. It was something he lived for, something he relished when it came his way, and he pounced on it with glee. "Ah, but you see, my dear dwarf, if you live by this code of ethics – such that it is – then you must accept me with open arms."

"What in perdition are you talking about?"

"I am only 99.96 per cent human, didn't you know?" Stepping forward, he drew the lid back from his left eye. "This eye once belonged to an elf. And as such, I do have a touch of fairy in me. Therefore, what's to stop me from taking up permanent residence around the corner from your home sweet hovel?"

Burroughs was in no way prepared for this announcement. "What in- that can't be- I don't believe you. No, this is some sort of joke, or clever ruse. And even if it was a fairy eye, that no more makes you a fairy than a peg leg makes you a tree."

"Hmm, debatable. For you see, a peg leg never becomes a part of the person; it is merely a tool by which to circumvent a disability. But I can assure you, this ocular transplant is permanent, and successful. It is my eye now, I can use it, can see through it as well as my other. Which means I am .04 per cent elf until the day I die."

"Oh, goody. A whopping decimal point of fairyness. You really think such a small bit makes you one of us?"

"By your own words, yes; fairy blood and tissue are housed within my skull. That marks me among those allowed to roost in Haven." He watched Burroughs's mouth work angrily for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching, then followed up with, "Someday, maybe my children will attend primary school alongside yours. Won't that be adorable?"

"No, sir!" Burroughs shouted. "Not in my lifetime – not ever! Angeline, you will slit your throat!"

But Angeline did not do so; instead, she wobbled on her feet, seeming faint from all the unusual goings on. "But... no, he said he's a fairy... if we're to help the fairies, then why would... I don't understand how killing myself could make him any less fairy than he already is, or force him to leave."

"You don't  _need_  to understand it! You merely need do as I say!"

"Mother," Artemis said gently. "Mum. They want us to leave, and I concur. If you slit your own throat, we will be incapacitated, and therefore beyond the ability to comply with their request. So put down that knife and let us depart."

For a brief instant, Angeline Fowl's hand pulled away, just enough for her to gaze at her weapon and puzzle at why she needed it. Then she was sliding to the floor and crumpling into a heap there.

"What-" began Burroughs, but it was too late. Several of his followers buckled and slid to the cold concrete, unconscious before they landed. As he looked on, he saw Daikon spin and aim a kick for a spot nearby, and a " _WHOOF"_  suggested that he found what he had been seeking out.

"Oh, no you don't," growled a voice from the air, and then Daikon joined the ranks of the dreaming.

"Betrayal!" the dwarf was screaming. "You promised! You promised a fair trade, and you had snipers strategically placed from the off!"

"I never broke any promise," Artemis told him, unimpressed by his outrage. "Yes, I offered a fair trade – which you thumbed your nose at. But at what point did I give my word that I  _didn't_  have a regiment of invisible soldiers ready to dispatch you, if and when you declined the gold? Really grasping at straws, now, you are."

Burroughs felt a vein pounding in his neck as a dozen uniformed officers of the LEP materialized around him, guns pointed and ready. As he swore loudly, another officer appeared right next to Artemis, clutching her stomach. The lawyer's kick had found purchase, but left no damage that a nice hot shower couldn't cure.

"You mongrel," he flung at the auburn-haired elf as his hands were cuffed and he was frisked from head to toe, turning up several small arms, a communication device and a notepad containing what the police sincerely hoped would be incriminating evidence. "You sellout, you traitor! We are the ones looking out for the welfare of our species, D'Arvit, and you side with  _them?_  These backward parasites are worth more to you than your own kind?"

"Save it, lowlife," Trouble growled, standing over Daikon and examining his handiwork. "I may not care for our above-sea-level neighbors too much, but it's against the law to condone what you and your playmates were cooking up. Not to mention plain stupid."

"But she's  _coupling_  with that one!" he crowed. "Crossbreeding is forbidden!"

The commander turned, and in a rare display of camaraderie with the Mud Boy, winked. "You heard him; he's already part elf."

"And I'm part human," Holly put in as she pointed to the blue orb that stood apart from her hazel one. "We 'mongrels' gotta stick together."

"Well phrased," Artemis whispered, and she smirked.

"How did you bastards even get in here? The Mud Boy came in alone, and no one saw any heat-shimmers from shielding. Have you been asking the warlocks to bend space and time just to catch a few protestors?"

"Hardly," said a voice from the doorway. They all turned to watch Mulch Diggums pace across the floor, scratching his stomach. "I was more than happy to open up a back door, by, er, opening up my back door. I'm sure you, sir, can appreciate a little humor among dwarfs."

"Don't lump me in with you," Burroughs growled. "You're no better than these stuffed shirts."

"Get him outta my sight," Trouble barked. "And pick up all this clutter. A few years at Howler's Peak might clean them up."

"Just a moment," said Mulch as he pushed his way through to the other dwarf's side. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, but then Mulch smiled, his enormous tombstone-shaped teeth glinting in the low light. "You haven't even put yourself in the earth in weeks, have you? Can't pick up a single scent of any mineral."

"What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. It's just that... well, when I smell something that doesn't smell like a  _real_  dwarf, I have to confirm my suspicions, that's all. If anyone were a traitor to their species, it's you, bucko. So stay away from my friends, or you'll be even less of a dwarf than you are now by the time I get through with you. Can you handle that, or do we need to break it down into goblin-sized words?"

And then Mulch was walking away, conveniently allowing his bum-flap to fall open while his back was turned to the other dwarf. Burroughs howled with rage, but only took half a step toward his provocateur before he was seized by a half-dozen arms and hauled away to a waiting police vehicle.

"Whew!" Mulch laughed, buttoning his bum-flap again now that it had served its purpose. "What a piece of work that guy is, eh? Glad that's settled."

"I hope to God it is," Artemis sighed. "There could be some awful contingent of ne'er-do-wells lurking out there in the city who will be more than happy to avenge their fallen comrades."

"Well, they can get in line," Trouble put in as he rejoined them. "As soon as we've got these  _cowpogs_  booked, it'll be open season on anyone who matches the descriptions Fowl gave us. Get 'em all in for questioning, and if they resist, they'll be arrested on charges of obstruction of justice."

"Tired of waiting for them to come to us?" Holly half-laughed.

"Extremely. Anyway, I have some orders to give, so if you'll excuse me..." But he stopped a few paces away. "This doesn't mean I like you, Fowl. But the LEP's official stance is gratitude for your cooperation. Good work today."

"Quite welcome," Artemis told him with a nod before the commander charged outside to make sure procedure was followed; the last thing they wanted was for any lone member of the group to get off on a technicality.

"Glad that's over," Holly sighed. "Can we go home now?"

Artemis laughed, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Suppose we can. I'm anxious to examine my previously-impounded computer hardware and make sure it's in proper working order."

 _"That's_ what you're anxious about? With your mother unconscious?"

"I trust you," he told her simply. "You took her out with minimal damage, and even caught her as she fell."

Holly's eyebrows knitted as she stared up at him, surprised. "You noticed all that, even in the middle of the chaos?"

"Sure. I'd recognize your heat-shimmer anywhere; it's become a reassuring sight."

"Fine, fine, I'm getting out of here before you start in with the necking and the heavy petting," Mulch sighed, throwing up his hands. "But don't forget which dwarf made your stealthy entrance possible."

"Thanks a bunch, Diggums," Holly whispered, squeezing him hard enough to cause a tiny toot of residual unreleased gas to be forced out through his flap. "And I'm sure Angeline will be even more grateful when she's not conked out."

"Anytime," he said kindly. "At least these yahoos weren't armed; minimal danger of shortening my life expectancy is a sight better than most of the cockamamie capers you two ask me to help you pull off."

"That's right," Artemis chuckled. "You're getting off easy, so don't push your luck by fishing for compliments. But I suppose this 'pocket change' may help?"

The change Artemis had claimed would only be enough to buy a cup of coffee would in fact have been enough for several dozen, and Mulch shrugged as he caught the coins being dropped into his hands. "Oh, I guess this is a start. Bye bye, lovebirds."

As the squat man waddled out the door, Holly took Artemis's arm and said, "Back to my place?"

"Yours? I assumed you wanted nothing to do with that building anymore."

"Nah. I'm through being forced to live in fear of my own apartment." Her entire body was still tense, but she was slowly allowing her adrenaline to drain away. "We could drop by yours and grab that cold takeout, snag a bottle of sim-wine, watch a crappy movie."

"Sounds a real treat. As soon as my mother is safely on her way to the station for some well-earned deprogramming, I'll take you up on it."

She nodded and continued to hold onto his arm until the medical warlocks arrived. Even when they did, she refused to let go.

o o o  _END Chapter Sixteen_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That more or less wraps up the main plotline! Have I been kind to our characters? There's one or two small bits leftover to wrap up in the next chapter, followed by a small epilogue. Then our story will meet its close. Hope this news isn't a crippling blow that will annihilate your existence. Like finding out Milli Vanilli were lip-synching.
> 
> NEXT: A sentimental parting...?


	17. Decampment

**HAVEN CITY; NOW**

"And that was the scene today in Haven's southeast district. It seems all members of the radical group have been apprehended, and several charged with more heinous crimes. One such elf, an attorney by the name of Daikon, was slapped with the accusation that he laid the  _mesmer_  on an innocent dwarf woman  _and_  an elfin mother merely to pursue the group's anti-Mud goals. As we are all well aware, using this power against another fairy is a severe offense in clear violation of The Book, and could possibly earn him a life sentence in Atlantis Prison... though there is talk of interment at the dreaded Howler's Peak. The Mud Woman harmed and manipulated during this unforeseeable clash of the races is now convalescing in Haven General under armed guard for her safety." The reporter's hand went to her earpiece. "Wait just a moment – I am now receiving word that the head of the Council is about to issue a statement. We have a camera on the scene, so we now take you to live feed of Chairman Cahartez."

"Citizens of Haven," the man began as he adjusted his absurd headgear, "tonight has been a night of deplorable tragedy. Of course we resent the Mud Men, we all have for millennia, but this does not excuse the actions of these terrorists. Three Mud Men, two of whom have been instrumental in aiding fairykind on numerous occasions, were granted sanctuary for a period not to exceed the necessary time for one of them to recover from the bothersome Atlantis Complex. Now, we of course did not merely allow them to run around the city without being monitored; they were in constant contact with the LEP, checks and balances and all that. To give credence to the wild claims that they were saboteurs or thieves or any other tummyrot would be pointless; they're merely a family of humans trying to beat back an ailment. I'm saddened to find that we cannot be trusted to keep our noses out, that a group of short-sighted fools appointed themselves costumed vigilantes, trying to drive out some imaginary Mud Menace. For shame. Please be advised, all of you out there, that you will suffer no sympathy if you are caught engaging in violent or malicious anti-Mud goings-on; it isn't justice, it isn't vengeance. It's just crime that needs to be prosecuted."

Immediately there was a din of reporters clamoring to ask questions, and the man pointed at one. "Councilman, don't you believe it would be wisest for these Mud Persons to be mind-wiped, to preserve our way of life should their knowledge of our existence be used against us? What makes them any different from the rest of the surface-dwellers?"

"Yes, I can see your point," he answered immediately. "However, I've been informed by the LEP that such measures have been taken against this particular group in the past, and our... dear Opal Koboi targeted them anyway for her juvenile temper tantrums. Thus, repeated contact with the fairies returned their previously-erased memories. It seems redundant to keep wiping them over and over – and aside from that, hazardous to their health."

"Then you don't agree that they pose a threat?" another reporter asked.

"Hardly. It may be beneficial to have one or two Mud Men allies; it already has been several times over, between Briar Cudgeon, Koboi, Turnball Root... and I'm sure there will be others in the future. As I said, I'm not crazy about the idea, but I'd be a fool to order them to be mind-wiped for the umpteenth time and rob ourselves of such an alliance. We've followed our own laws when we did it the first time, and I say that's all we need have done; that bill is likely to be passed in spite of the strong opposition. It just makes good sense."

"Chairman Cahartez," spoke up a tiny sprite, "many of us have heard that one of the Mud Men may or may not have been involved in an unorthodox relationship with an LEP officer. Is there any merit to this rumour?"

The man grimaced. "Really, now, that isn't any of my business. If it were true, and I'm not even bothering to speculate on whether or not it is, I'd be concerned for both of them. It's hard enough being a pixie courting a centaur, let alone a fairy and a non-fairy! That isn't to say I do or do not condone it, because as I've said before, that would be between the two beings involved and them alone. But either way, there isn't anything exactly  _illegal_  about it, per se. No more questions, now, thank you all for your time."

"There you have it, folks," the bob-haired woman said into her microphone as the picture switched over to her again, cutting off the deafening roar of the reporters gathered around Cahartez's podium of public address. "Whatever your opinions, it sounds like the Mud Men are here to stay – at least, until their need for the Argon Clinic reaches its end. We may never know the full extent of the events that transpired this night, or if there truly is an inter-species affair going on in our own backyard, but rest assured, we'll keep digging – we've got plenty of dwarfs on staff to handle that. Live from Haven, I'm Persephone Swotta for-"

o o o

"Bah," Holly grunted as she changed the channel on her brand-new television screen. "They'll keep digging, will they? Haven't they been paying attention? The People getting so fired up about us is what started all this in the first place."

"It will do us no great service to grouse about it," Artemis sighed as he poured himself another goblet of sim-wine. "The world over, there are those individuals who can derive no sense of satisfaction from within their own lives and look to the misery of others to bolster their self-esteem. Propaganda and scandal are their primary forms of entertainment."

Holly grunted as she picked up their plates and took them to her sink. "I still don't like it."

"We don't have to like it; merely weather the storm until it passes. If we don't start making announcements in the fairy newspapers, they will have no fuel to add to the flames of sensationalism and they'll burn out."

"I know, you're right. It just... rubs me raw. I'm sick of hearing them talking about you like you're some filthy, drooling beast I'm keeping as a pet."

Artemis pitched in with washing and drying the dishes as they continued to discuss things. "And I too grow weary of their slander of your good name. But I know they can't take anything from us, not by violence or hushed whispers. We're made of stronger stuff, and the time will come when they reach that conclusion as well."

A few hours later found them on her relocated futon, having dispersed their anger and resentment of mistreatment at the hands of narrow-minded fairies by strengthening their bond. Artemis found every encounter to be a new exploration of how they fit together, both physically and spiritually, and there was no sudden revelation that this wasn't working, or that they were making a disastrous err in judgement. He hadn't been trying to mollify her when he said they had something between them that no amount of hate from outward sources could tear asunder. It was very real.

"Oh, Artemis," she whispered into his chest as she relaxed for the second time after reaching the pinnacle of joy that eve. "I'm... going to miss this."

"No talk of that now," he chided. "Let's just relish this day, this time. I'd rather not think of tomorrow."

"But we must. Because it's going to come; we can't cast a time-field over the entire earth, can we?"

He smirked as he stroked her back. The weight of her sprawled atop his frame was one he bore gladly. "Maybe we should call up No1 and posit your insightful theory; I'd love to see it put to the test, even if it fails."

"Mmm," she sighed dreamily. "To stop time... to really stop it. To stay like this until our bodies turn to dust. That's what I want."

"Amen. That would truly be an ideal life."

"Don't go," she suddenly sobbed, the tears she'd been trying to bury breaking through unexpectedly – for both of them. "I- I'm sorry, I know we weren't supposed to pick at this scab tonight, but I can't help it, I c-can't banish the thought for very long before it comes right back."

"We must go." The bitterness in his voice was slight, but they both heard it. "It's clear we aren't welcome as long-term residents in the realm of fairies. I may be in love, but I'm not suicidal – and besides, what would I do? Be with you, yes, but there's little else for me down here."

"Aren't I enough?"

"No." When she gasped exasperatedly, he chuckled. "Nearly so – and coming from a motivated go-getter like me, that's a bold statement. No one person or thing has  _ever_  held so much value to me. Alas, I'm learned enough to envision that it would take scant months for me to grow restless without any purpose other than being your trophy husband. Worst case scenario, I begin taking out my frustrations on you, and we tear our own relationship to shreds. Which would kill me."

Rolling her eyes, she feebly shoved his face away. "Don't be so dramatic."

"You think I am?"

Then she leaned up, steadily meeting his gaze, and her lip trembled. "No... no, I know you aren't. That scares me, you know. It scares me that I feel the same way. I've never been so co-dependent in my life. Am I... losing my edge? How am I even supposed to keep fighting the good fight if I'm turning into a marshmallow? Maybe I should just hand in my badge now before I drag down the rest of the force."

"Bilge," Artemis snorted. "Any two persons that have such intense feelings for one another, that actually  _find_  one another upon this dismal planet... that isn't co-dependance. That's a miracle. And miracles are to be celebrated, not mourned."

"Even when they're so inconvenient?"

"Especially then. It lends them a kind of fierce beauty... makes them precious."

"You're precious to me," she told him throatily. "I don't care where we end up after this, I want you to file that away, to accept it, to swallow it down where nobody else can hurt or destroy it – even you or me. Because I don't want you to forget it. This love is just... truth."

Artemis felt a tear welling in the corner of his eye, and he fought to keep it from emerging but it did anyway. "Holly..."

"I learned English for  _you,_  y'know." When his eyebrows drew together, she grinned. "Like I told you, it doesn't require the gift of tongues anymore. It's become my second language – and I've never been able to pick one up before without the supernatural boost. I used to tell myself it was coming more easily due to repetition, but that's crap. You're the reason. Because it's your language, and committing it to memory would bring me closer to you."

"I... don't know what to say."

"Then this is a red-letter day," she giggled. "Artemis Fowl is speechless."

Artemis let out a gust, still unsettled from how openly she had bared her soul to him. "Hardy har har, Captain Short."

Her head came to rest on his shoulder as she wrapped herself around him, clung to him with every muscle she owned as if pinning him to the ground so he could never leave. "You beat back the reaper for me again. Butler and No1 helped but... I'd be a bloody corpse if you hadn't been able to-"

"Which was more your doing than mine," he corrected. "I wouldn't have had the magic if you hadn't insisted I complete the ritual with you. So it's more of a 'physician, heal thyself' instance."

"But you didn't have to respond to Butler's call, Arty," she insisted, fingernails biting into his flesh as she trembled. "And you didn't have to pour out all your magic, or- or will me to live with such determination. How is it that I deserve somebody who cares about me this much?"

"It's selfishness on my part, I'm afraid," he whispered. Then he grinned as he repeated something she had once told him under similar circumstances. "I couldn't do without you."

Their feverish kiss lead to another climb to the heights of ecstasy. The knowledge that it might be the very last such moment they shared for ages did not diminish the passion in the slightest. Quite the contrary.

o o o

"How are you feeling?"

Angeline Fowl sat up straighter in her bed, smiling weakly. "As well as can be expected, Arty. I've been through the ringer, mentally speaking. But I feel fine now, just weary. Ready to be home, of course."

"Yes, of course – and we shall be soon."

At this, she frowned at her son, setting aside the small tub of some viscous substance the orderly had insisted was nutritious and not the least bit disgusting (and he had been wrong about the second bit). "Are you... alright?"

"Perfectly," he reassured her with a false smile. "A touch of separation anxiety, nothing I can't manage."

"It's not supposed to be manageable. Missing someone you care for when you must leave them behind is normal and healthy. Don't go back to bottling things up or we'll wind up right back here for another round of sessions – unless that's your newest dastardly scheme?"

"Oh, what hilarity," he told her drily as he perched on the edge of the chair. "Not a bad one, either – perhaps I'll start feigning symptoms in, say, a few weeks? Promise you'll go along with it and your next Mother's Day present will be superb."

"Enough," she laughed, fingering the blue diamond necklace he'd given her on a previous occasion. "But... I can't feel right about this until I ensure I've done my damndest to talk to you about it."

"Mother-"

"Miss Holly. She is... older than I am, isn't she? Rest assured that honesty is your best policy in this instance."

Artemis frowned at her, folding his arms over his chest as he considered his choices. Finally, he averted his gaze and settled on, "Perhaps, but I can't honestly tell you either way."

"These things worry me, Son. Put my fears to rest; tell me how on earth you could make a relationship with so many factors set against you work, even in a perfect world where you could get married as any other couple would."

He settled on a simile. "Have you ever heard the old adage about helicopters? How, scientifically and aerodynamically speaking, their being capable of flight is infeasible? Nevertheless, they defy laws of physics – and gravity. Holly and I are exactly like that; an unmitigated disaster on paper, but still we flourish in the face of adversity. And... well, I'm sorry if I can't go into any more detail, because not even I understand it. All I'm fully abreast of is my own stalwart feelings."

His mother's face was drawn and pale; no longer from worrying about her son's mental state, but  _for_ the doomed couple. "Then what are you going to do, now that the time has come for you to go your separate ways?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I wish I did."

"Then I shall say a small prayer on your behalf," she said, gesturing for him to lean forward. She kissed him on the forehead, then patted the back of his head lovingly. "My poor boy. I do wish I had some sort of motherly wisdom to dispense that would wipe away all the badness."

"I haven't expected you to have those kind of superhuman powers since I was in diapers," he chuckled. "But the sentiment is appreciated. Thank you. Now, what say we get you checked out of here so we can pack?"

But as Artemis was tending to such matters, Angeline couldn't help but dwell on the rough time of it the mismatched lovers were about to endure. Surely there could be something done, couldn't there? Maybe, maybe not. But the least she could do for her boy was to contemplate it. To resist the temptation to give up. He certainly wasn't going to anytime soon.

o o o

The appointed hour came at last when they could no longer delay. Holly volunteered to guide a shuttle bearing the humans to their dwelling ("We can't just put them on a passenger flight; the fairies will have kittens!") and Trouble Kelp gave his blessing, only telling her not to linger overlong or he'd send a Retrieval squad after her and the ship. The voyage was mostly uncomfortable and silent until they came within sight of Ireland's shores.

"There it is," Butler said as he stared out at the landscape. "There were days when I wondered if we'd ever see it again."

"Yes, old friend," Artemis agreed. "A sight for sore eyes if ever there were one. The twins will be awakening in a few hours, and father shortly thereafter when they pounce upon his slumbering form with immature glee."

"Now, we're agreed that we disembark on that corner and hail a taxi to return us to Fowl Manor so we don't raise suspicions should your father happen to be awake."

"It is the best plan. Really hate to arrive home after so lengthy a sabbatical in such a fashion..."

"You know I'd be fine dropping you on the doorstep," Holly put in.

"No, no," he sighed. "I defer to my bodyguard on this one; it's for the best."

"Your call."

As they landed in a completely deserted parking lot, just around the corner from a busier street, Butler was already dialing a taxi with a cell phone that was receiving a signal for the first time in weeks. He got out first to make sure the coast was clear – if indeed anyone spotted a few bodies emerging from thin air, he wanted to be fully apprised of it in time to draw his Sig Sauer and dispatch the offender – and Angeline followed at a slower pace.

"This bites," Holly was whispering to Artemis.

"We'll see each other soon enough, I expect," he told her weakly. Dr. Argon's make-believe curse based on the Greek goddess of love seemed more and more to be both genuine and detrimental. "There will always be danger, and we will always be called upon to clean up the fetid messes of would-be megalomaniacs."

Holly's smile was bleak. "This may be the first time I've ever  _wished_  for the world to be in danger."

"Oh, put a cork in it, the pair of you," Angeline scolded them. "You'll be seeing each other in scant weeks."

Both boy and elf were shocked at both her attitude and proclamation. "Er... Mother, if I may be so blunt... what the devil do you mean?"

"Well, don't you need to refill your magic supply?" When neither of them spoke she assumed it to be a confirmation. "And doesn't that mean you have to go climb a tree by the light of the full moon or something along those lines?"

"Something along those lines," Artemis snorted.

"Well, there you are. I'm sure you'll bump into your pixie friend there, Arty. In the meantime, I seem to recall there's a guest room in the eastern corner that is rarely visited, even by the twins. The one with the chartreuse wallpapering? If, say, we had the rare non-human visitor that need be squirreled away..."

The slow grin that spread across Artemis's face was far brighter than the vampire-like one he so often allowed himself. "You've given this ample thought, I see."

"It has a locking door," she said as she tossed a key to a very stunned Holly Short. "Obviously Artemis Senior has a key, but he rarely has need to venture in there; a few old relics of no import and a dilapidated bed demand little ongoing attention. The lock shall keep the children at bay, however."

"Ma'am," Holly stammered, staring between the key and the Fowl matriarch with disbelief. "I- this is- it almost sounds like you're telling us-"

"Please don't force my mind to blunder any further down that disquieting path," she pleaded, obviously forcing herself to concentrate on her son's happiness instead of what was required to obtain it. "Just... try not to make too much noise or you'll pique the curiosity of the other Fowls. It's taxing enough having two of us aware of the People to be going on with, don't you agree?"

"I do," she said, cheeks glowing. "The mice will be louder than me, I promise."

Angeline smiled wearily, patting Artemis on the shoulder as she jumped outside to rejoin the Eurasian bodyguard in keeping an eye out for passerby.

"How about that," he said, breathless. "I... could have sworn she was against this from the off, and here she's gone and-"

"I'd marry into your family in a heartbeat," Holly giggled, still staring at the key in her hand. "Despite all our differences, she doesn't mind. It's amazing. It's beyond amazing, it's, it's..."

"Unprecedented?"

"Yeah, that."

Artemis smiled, leaning over and giving her a deep kiss. It lasted two minutes longer than he meant for it to, and he heard a loud clearing of a throat outside the shuttle, so he forced himself to pull away.

"It still burns," she whispered, clutching desperately at his neck with both hands, eyes stinging from tears and regret. "Can't I come with you?"

"You could never give up being LEP," he reminded her. The huskiness in his voice would have embarrassed him at any other time than this, but right now he couldn't be bothered about it. "And I wouldn't demand you do so, either; not knowing you the way I do."

"Nobody else does, Arty.  _Nobody_  else knows me the way you do. Just the me I let them see, which is... maybe half."

"Two-thirds, I would estimate," he quipped. "You do wear your heart on your sleeve. But I feel overwhelmingly fortunate to be privy to that top-secret third that you leave buried. It's the most beautiful third of all."

"Ditto, you punk. If the world knew what a loving, compassionate pushover Artemis Fowl the Second was, you'd probably lose a lot of respect among the criminal element, huh?"

Artemis flicked the pointed tip of her ear, and she yelped. "Probably. So keep that under your helmet, if you don't mind."

Holly put her mouth a centimetre from his woefully-circular ear and said so quietly he almost couldn't make it out, "I love you, Human."

Normally, her terminology might have been slightly offensive, but somehow Artemis knew what was running through her mind as she said it: it was the first thing she'd ever called him. He remembered with vivid clarity.

"I love you, too," he said into hers, a lump making it more and more difficult to articulate his meaning. "Pixie."

"You really have to work on that with her," she laughed as they pulled away, wiping at their eyes and steeling their resolve. " _Elf._  It's three letters, it can't be that hard to wrap your brain around."

"No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"See you 'round, Master Fowl."

"Until next we cross paths, Captain." Her stern glare caused him to soften. "I'll be counting the nanoseconds."

It took all the willpower he owned to ignore the stifled sob from the cockpit as he stepped down, suitcase and laptop in tow. But he did not allow himself to turn back and gaze into the shuttle; the rest of him would follow if he did. Now was a time to be strong, in spite of every feeling he wished he could allow to take him over. They both must be strong.

"I am sorry," Angeline soothed as they more listened to her depart than watched, since the craft had never unshielded once it emerged from the earth's crust. "I know that was... probably one of the hardest things you've ever had to endure."

"It was," he agreed. "Even next to having to squeeze a sweaty dwarf toe in order to force a rock to be dislodged from his-"

"That's more than we needed to hear about it, I'm sure," Butler grumbled, checking his watch. "But don't feel too badly, Artemis. I'm sure we haven't seen the last of the Captain."

"No," Artemis said, turning the coin with a hole in the center over and over in his palm as the taxi finally arrived at the kerb. "Of that I'm certain."

o o o  _END Chapter Seventeen_  o o o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOORAH! Finally, my internet has been connected! Turns out it was the wall jack; whoever refurbished my flat before I moved in installed a new jack... which was broken. Terrific! Anyway, I now have a dependable connection just in time to, er, post the last chapter and subsequent epilogue. At least I can check my email again...
> 
> NEXT: The grand finale!


	18. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is with a heavy heart and a lump in my throat that I bid goodbye to Arty and Holly. Their story has reached an end I can be proud of. I hope you agree, but even if you don't I won't change it. This is how I wanted it to be. This is how it is. Sometimes you're lucky in your writing and happen upon that exact way to tie everything up neatly, and you jot it down, and then you sit back and gasp and say, "THERE it is - the real ending. And my feeble brain managed to write it." This is one of those instances.
> 
> Perhaps it's a benchmark that would (and should) have gone unnoticed, but... Aphrodite Curse has somehow accumulated the most reviews out of any of my fanfiction I've ever written. Even the Potterfic novella I wrote six years ago, which got quite a lot of attention, still doesn't have as many reviews as this one I started last month. Let us conclude that this means the Fowl fandom has more attentive reviewers, at the absolute least. Go Havenites! Let's all get together and take in some crunchball over a long weekend come next season, eh?
> 
> I know, I know, you want to get on with the story, but I always put my final Author's Note at the top of the fic so you're left with nothing but story at the end. This will be the last time I respond to reviews. For those of you who review the epilogue and thereby the entire fiction as a completed whole, I'm going to say in advance that I love you all, and if you enjoyed my meandering bit of fluff that I'm grateful that you walked this path with me.
> 
> And it IS time. Thank you for reading this thing I belched up; I earnestly do try my damndest with every paragraph to write something truly unique and enjoyable. If I succeed now and then... chalk it up to the law of averages.
> 
> Until we meet again,
> 
> Jessica X

**IRELAND; THREE MONTHS LATER**

The nocturnal wind swept at his hair as Artemis studied his fingernails. They were immaculate, of course, but he kept worrying that one of them was out of place. Which one? None of them presented themselves as being jagged or overlong. Probably just his nerves seeking a ready outlet, something to focus on while he waited.

What was keeping her?

"It's nearly three," he said aloud. "Soon I'll need see to this on my own and take my leave of this abominable place."

"Patience, Artemis," Butler told him as he paged through a hefty volume he was reading by the substantial natural lighting. "I have nowhere else to be, and neither do you, I'm sure."

"I should call. Why shouldn't I call? I have every right to call... yet I haven't. Why is that?"

"Because you know how utterly annoying it would be for you to do so. Might start things off in a poor mood, mightn't it?"

Artemis nodded tersely, pacing back and forth now. "It's an hour past the time of rendezvous. For her sake, there had better be an-"

_"BOO!"_

Without warning, Artemis found himself in Butler's arms, and saw a gun protruding from under his shoulder. After a moment's confusion he heard the towering man utter, "Oh, for heaven's sake..."

"Got you good," Holly chortled as she unshielded, hands on her knees. "Thought the big guy was going to have a conniption fit!"

"Indeed," Artemis replied as he was lowered to the ground. "You're late."

She pulled a face. "Sorry, couldn't get away from work. I finally had to tell the bossman that I was running dry so he'd let me go."

"And are you?"

Holly cracked her neck, sending blue sparks flashing in her eyes. "I've got maybe sixty per cent left. Realistically, I could leave it for another month, but why put off for tomorrow what you can do today?"

"Yes, it's only practical to ensure a full arsenal," Artemis nodded. "Never know when you might be... caught unawares."

"Riiight," Butler drawled, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. "That's why you're here, I'm sure; practicality. If you two comedians won't be needing anything further, you can find me in the Rolls when you're through."

As they watched the man's back recede into the night, Holly snickered. "I really did have him going."

"You did. Ready, my dear?"

The ritual itself took trifling minutes. Afterward, when the earth had bestowed upon them the gift of magic, they retreated into a thicket and began enjoying the nearness so often denied them. Holly was only half-clothed when she held up a warning hand.

"Wait, wait," she said breathlessly. "You're... you're taking this farther than you usually do out here. Aren't we going back to the mansion?"

"The ride is devilishly long," he told her frantically as his tie landed atop his jacket on the grass. "By the time we reach the drive I'll be a frothing madman."

"Maybe I like it when you're that worked up," she told him in lewd tones, her nose crinkling. At this, he pounced. "Ack! Wait, hold on a sec- we can't do this in the great outdoors!"

"Here and now, Holly. I must have you."

"Gosh, you sure don't beat around the bush," she gasped out, holding him at bay. "Why the upswing in primal urges? Did something happen?"

Artemis drew back, surprised. "No, nothing. Why? Do I seem different?"

"Only in that your body seems to be way ahead of your brain, for once. This isn't like you at all."

Now sure they weren't about to make love first and ask questions later, he sat back, wiping his brow. "I... I do apologize. It's just that... well, I can only state that I have missed you. And that you were late, which made things..."

"Ahh," she sighed, a knowing smile replacing her bemused frown. "So you've been waiting to get me alone, and I made you wait even longer. Which is why you're panting like a dog on the prowl."

"Thank you for equating me with such mindless urgency. No, I am fully aware of what I want; there's no part of me in doubt, no aspect of my intellect being cut off by basest desire. You drive me wild, and I go willingly."

Holly scowled at him playfully. "A girl has to be romanced, you know. Since when is 'get in the bushes and tear off your clothes' romantic?"

"Just now, it sounds like Dumas. Please, Holly..."

"But we're in the bushes," she said, cheeks pinkening even more than they already were. "Out in the open – what if someone sees-"

"We can both shield," he contradicted. "You may recall that I've mastered it over the past weeks. Aside from that, Butler will be upon them ages before they come within striking distance."

"I thought he was turning a blind eye in the car," she said in scandalized tones. "He's not out there...  _watching_ this, is he?"

Artemis scared up a vampiric grin. "Would you enjoy it if he were?"

_"ARTEMIS!"_

"At ease, soldier," he cackled as she landed a bruising punch on his bicep. "He's keeping just enough eye on us to see if we're being advanced upon and no more than that, I promise. You know what a professional he is."

"We're still... we might get caught," she said shakily.

"I know. Doesn't that ignite the passion with the most scarlet of flames?"

Holly hooked her fingers around his waistband. "Well, then, Mr. Exhibitionist... you first."

To her astonishment, he did not fight her, and she was so completely astonished that she didn't fight him, either. Only then, sky-clad, with his lips inches from her own, did she once again strain against him and whisper, "Artemis, wait – how can we?"

"How  _can't_  we?" His smile was so sweet and genuine that she felt her heart flutter on an entirely different wavelength than it did from her arousal. "You and I are one, now and always. Let the stars know it. Let the soil feel it."

Now she knew they were reaching something primal – a deep magic obscured by the ages, the most naked of feelings. That they unite with nothing around but love and the gods and the elements. When she met his mismatched eyes with hers, she knew it was creeping into his mind, too, more even than when he'd spoken. How sacred this event was becoming. Pure and consecrated from deep within the soul.

"We have to now," she breathed, heart flaring like a million suns, like the white-hot magma core miles below them. "This... it's all that matters."

"It is, Holly. You and I, and the magic."

The moon bore witness to love made tangible that night – love between a human and an elf. No one spoke against it nor condemned the lovers. All was beauty and wonder, and passion and peace. And magic.

o o o  _~FIN~_  o o o


End file.
